some maidens, "not young," who, as was pithily said of them by a married contemporary, having as much happiness and more usefulness than usually belongs to married life, were occupied in the certain good of relieving the poor mortals already here, instead of the uncertain benefit of bringing others into the world." But this vicarious maternity was not their sole occupation. There was a healthy vigorous intellectual life among them, free from literary ambition, but not without adornment. Accident having thrown some political exiles of the highest order upon their kindness, the young women "followed the arts," and while acquiring music, German, and Italian, they naturally imbibed the generous political creeds of which their teachers were the apostles and martyrs. Mrs. Clifford, in regard to Alice, gave in to these "foreign trimmings," as she called them; not that she valued the garniture, but that she thus gave "material aid" in the most delicate mode in which it could be imparted. So it became common law in Mapeton that the credential of a foreign teacher there must be a diploma from an Austrian fortress-prison. CHAPTER XXXIX Cross Purposes. "Reflected in the lake, I love To see the stars of heaven gow, So tranquil in the sky above, So restless in the wave belw."-HEBER. THOSE are said to be the happiest days of our lives of which there is least to record. Leat, perhaps, to be published, but not least to be cherished in grateful remembrance. Who counts the drops that compose the shower which sustains the vitality of nture? And who sets down the bright "good-mornings," and the peaceful "good-nights" of family life?-the morning-prayer, and the evening-blessing, the intechange of innumerable good words, and offices of affection ?-the look-outs into the beautiful and ever-changing face of nature ?-the three times gathering round the table, where mind and heart, as well as body, find their food ?-the meetings and the partings enriched by love?-the books that vitalize and cheer the lives of high and humble?—the responsive smiles, the recreative laughs, the shouts, caresses, and fresh sayings (original poetry) of children ?-the arrival of friends, and the coming in of the daily mail? Where are the blanks but in the thankless heart? There were no startling events during the three happy weeks that followed Archibald's arrival at Mapleton. The earth is still, and may seem dead, when beneath its surface are elaborating processes that are to deck it with blossoms, and hang fruit on its trees. These three short uneventful weeks, if measured by the aesthetic mode of sensations, were the longest in the lives of our friends. The busily idle days were never tedious. They wiled the hours away over their favourite authors, equally content whether they agreed or differed. Village-hospitalities were exchanged without the gêne of ceremony, or the folly of pretension. The early dewy mornings found Lisle and Alice mounted for a ride; Alice was a famous horsewoman. Grace remarked to her now thrice happy mother, that none of her accomplishments were lost on Lisle. The evenings were passed in moon-lit strolls, or gatherings on piazzas, where some talked, and others listened to music. Every house had its piano, and Grace frankly confessed that her vanity had been rebuked by finding, in a rural district, those quite as accomplished as herself in the "art and mystery" of music. Tête-à-tête rides and drives in countries of an older civilization than our's might be excepted to, but it seemed not even to occur to the most fastidious spinster in Mapleton, that there was the slightest impropriety in their young friends charming away the hours among the hills. So they went, Archibald and Alice, or Archibald and Grace, or all together, unscathed by gossip's tongue, "To the beautiful streamlet by the village-side, or they winded up through the forest-path to that whence "Narrow battlement" "Sheer to the vale go down the bare old cliffs, Huge pillars that in middle heaven upbear It must be confessed there was an atmosphere about these scenes very favourable to the growth of that little flower called “Love-in-idleness.” Lisle's position with these two young women, each supremely charming in her own way, would seem a very dubious one; but it was quite plain that no vulgar observer could liken him to the vacillating animal between the two bundles of hay. It was apparent which he had elected for his "daily food." If there were moments when the old habits of his heart mastered him, and when as the blood rushed to his cheek, and an inevitable smile played on his lips at some beaming charm of Grace, he found himself involuntarily at her side, oblivious of Alice's presence, all his devotions aforethought were to Alice, and Grace, for the first time in her life, was left to enact the subordinate part of an observer. Lisle's predetermined, and therefore now duteous devotion to Alice, left Grace much to Mrs. Clifford's companionship. The mother's prejudices were fused and transfused in her felicitous assurance of the fulfilment of her hopes. From doubting the justice of her prejudices, she soon came to wonder she had ever entertained them. The moment the obstruction was removed, the natural sympathy between the young lady and her elder was manifest. They both belonged to the family of the "Great Hearts.” One evening, just before the serving of tea, the letters and papers were brought from the mail. Lisle, with the keen appetite of all American mankind for works of this genus, had seized a newspaper, and was running his eye over it. "Do you find any news, Archy ?" asked Mrs. Clifford. "No, nothing of any consequence," he replied, as people usually do, who first get possession of a fresh paper, unless it chance to contain something as startling as a revolution, or a murder among one's acquaintance. Oh, yes," he added, "here are readings for the ladies,' a description of a fancy-ball' at Newport; shall I read it ?" Do read it, Archy," replied Alice, eagerly. 66 "Alice has not got beyond readings for very young ladies,' ,"" said her mother; "but you may read it, Archy; Grace and I will endure it." Lisle exchanged smiles with Alice, and proceeded to read the details of the royal, sacerdotal, and heroic characters assumed by the beaux and belles of our cities congregated at the watering-place of highest fashion. The initials only of the real names were given, and as Lisle read them, Grace, who was familiar with the names of most of the notorieties of the fashionable world, filled 66 up the blanks. Decidedly the most dazzling star in this brilliant galaxy"-we quote the paragraph, whose style might be termed adjective-" was the fair young lady who personated the superb Queen Elizabeth. The ugly old Queen would have bartered all the unmatchable jewels of her regalia for the youth, grace, and beauty of her counterfeit. The choice of this character, much criticized by certain coteries, was (we humbly surmise) determined by its relation to the noble Leicester. The beauty, brilliancy, gorgeousness, sublimity, and set of the earl's costume, were never exceeded in any country. The diamonds were said to be of the first water, and the point-lace and ermine were beyond dispute real—” Oh, pray stop, Archy," cried Mrs. Clifford; "what fools our people are!" "There is ever so much more, Alice—all the romance -but your mother won't hear it. Oh permit me, Mrs. Clifford just this." He read on: "As in our happy land there are no musty laws or malicious lieges to impede royal connubial happiness, rumour reports that the hymeneal altar will soon be lighted to unite the fortunate Mr. C -y to the beautiful Miss C- -n.' Who should they be, Miss Herbert ?" honestly asked Lisle. A painful pervading blush overspread Grace's cheek. Lisle saw it, and wished his question unasked. Grace saw that he observed it, and perhaps she divined the rapid process of his mind, for she answered, and without faltering, "Mr. Copley and Miss Carlton." Alice, when Lisle hesitated, had risen to see for herself, and was looking over his shoulder, her eye riveted to the paper, when the "speechless messages" passed between him and Grace. Not at the trashy report of the ball was she looking; another column of the paper had caught her eye. The colour faded from her cheek, and Lisle might have heard the beating of her heart. She rushed out of the open door, and sank down upon the seat under the maple-tree. Neither her mother nor Grace observed anything unusual in her exit. She was habitually sudden and rapid in her movements. Lisle followed her. He seized her hand; his was tremulous, his voice choking, as he said, "Tell me, dear Alice-oh, tell me No, not now," she cried, interrupting him; "don't ask me now. I will, perhaps, another time." And snatching away her hand, she sprang from him, and entering the house by another door, went to her own room, locked herself in, and gave way to anxieties she could not repress, and dared not betray. "What a cowardly wretch I am!" exclaimed Lisle, as he walked off to the lake-side. "Shall I ever again have courage to ask if that cursed engagement is suspended, or if anything has happened to it ? No-nothing can. What weakness to let this silly gossip open the door for a moment to thoughts, to hopes, that I had shut out for ever." Some one says that every human being is alone, however intimate may seem the fellowship in which he lives with those around him. Certain it is, that all the persons but just now gathered around the bay-window, had within their own minds a solitary cell. It was an hour that invites to confidence. When the outer world grows dark, one is more inclined to throw open the windows and doors of the inner. Grace drew a brioche to Mrs. Clifford's feet, sat down, laid her head on Mrs. Clifford's lap, and sighed. Was the sigh drawn forth by the too vivid recollection of the past suggested by the fancy-ball? or was there "a little cloud no bigger than my hand" rising in her spirit's clear heaven, at the thought of Alice's "culminating felicity ?" My dear Grace," began Mrs. Tord, and paused; but feeling sure of herself, sure that 66 |