XXVIII.

DREGS.

HE worst part of our nature is seldom slow to revenge itself upon the best. After any strain of moral heroism, comes an inevitable reaction. The soul that has struggled up the Mount of Trial leaning on the arm of the Holy Spirit, is wofully apt to slide down the corresponding declivity in the grasp of

Satan. Sometimes, I think, the devil even joins in the good work of pushing us up, that the impetus thus gained may enable him the more easily to thrust us down. He helps to build up our characters to some lofty height of virtue, in order that they may the more surely topple over into some small neighboring pit of vice. He does not scruple to aid us in girding up our loins to the battle, that the bivouac may fall more completely under his control.

I left Bona in "The Bower." On the way back, I took bitter counsel with Mala. She offered a possible solution of the problem that perplexed me; also a suggestion or two, upon which I acted in due time.

As we neared the house, I observed Mrs. Thorne seated at her window, sewing. It is a noteworthy circumstance that she is always sewing, in a characteristic fashion. She sets stitches with the ease and regularity of a machine, and with as little apparent interest in the process. She undertakes nothing that exacts close attention-thought of

brain as well as motion of hand; she chooses rather straight seams, bands, and hems,-work which keeps the fingers busy and leaves the mind free; which furnishes ready excuse for dropping her eyes, upon occasions, yet allows them full liberty to wander when there is anything to reward observation.

She regarded Carrie and me from her outlook with some surprise, some perplexity. Doubtless, Rick's nonappearance with us struck her as a somewhat singular circumstance. Possibly, too, she discerned something in my face or manner suggestive of unexpected complications; for, in matters affecting her own interests, her perceptions are as quick and subtle as the electric fluid. Nevertheless, by the time I had ascended to her room (leaving Carrie in the porch below, looking out for her brother), I might as well have tried to read thought or emotion in the immovable features of the Sphinx. Save for the bland smile that ever plays about her lips-affording as much real warmth to the heart as a phosphoric glimmer would to the finger-ends— she was absolutely statuesque,

"Mrs. Thorne," I began abruptly, "did you ever hap pen to hear of my cousin-Wilhelmina Frost ? "

She searched her memory rapidly, "No, I believe not, Why do you ask?"

"Because, madam, she is better worth your acquaintance than I am. She is young, beautiful, accomplished, and-chiefest grace of all!-rich. Perhaps you are not aware that there were three of the Frost brothers. The cldest left home early; he led a wandering, erratic life for years; he married late, in India. He died there, not long since, leaving a large fortune to his only surviving child-a daughter;—and both to the guardianship of her, and my, uncle John Frost. According to the terms of her father's will, she resides alternately with him and the relatives of her mother.

city."

She is now with the latter in a western

"Ah!" said Mrs. Thorne, meditatively. The tone indicated that she had, at last, found the key to a puzzle.

Moreover," I went on, with a blind, bitter, foolish irritation; partly due to the natural revulsion of feeling, overwrought during my recent interview with Rick, and partly to my utter detestation of the motives and designs. which-rightly or wrongly-I now attributed to Mrs. Thorne in bringing us together;-" moreover, she is heart-free (so far as I know, at least)-which I am not. Or it might be more to the point to say that my heart—all that is best of it-is dead and buried."

Scarcely were the words spoken ere I repented of them. What folly to lay bare the hidden workings of my life,-its secret grievances, trials, disappointments,—to a woman like Mrs. Thorne,-a mere calculating machine, without heart, sympathy, or conscience,-who would at once proceed to incorporate them with her own schemes and use them unscrupulously to further her own ends, if she found them anywise capable of such subserviency; or else throw them out on the highway, to be ground into the dust by every passing wheel. However, having given myself up, utterly, into the hands of Mala, for the time, I could think of no better way of mending the matter than by aiming a threat at Mrs. Thorne's maternal pride, and so enlisting it on my side. I went on, therefore, with still intenser bitterness, because mingled with self-contempt.

"However, as you may imagine, this is a part of my history which I do not care to put into the possession of Madam Rumor. If I find it there, by any means directly or indirectly traceable to this conversation, I shall consider. myself at liberty to offset it with a part of your son's, -namely, that I have just declined the honor of his hand."

She gave so genuine and unmistakable a start of surprise, that, for a moment, it confounded all my conclu

sions. She had not expected this climax, then? Or, was it merely that she had not expected it so soon? I inclined to the latter supposition, inasmuch as, after that first gleam of surprise had passed, and the momentary flush of resentment which succeeded it had faded from her cheek, I fancied I could detect, in her countenance, the serenity of easy acceptance; not altogether devoid of satisfaction. Probably, as matters had turned out, she was relieved to find the affair ended so soon, and thus. It would save trouble.

While she reflected, I stood regarding her with a chill and creeping of the flesh; as at something not quite human. A curious piece of flesh-and-blood mechanism, informed with thought and will, but entirely destitute of affections, sympathies, emotions! It was plain that she considered the subject purely in a material way, as a question of social or pecuniary advantage and loss; for her, its moral or emotional side did not exist.

I am aware that my sketch of Mrs. Thorne's character may justly be accused of exaggeration. It is all the truer, on that account. There are people whom it is nearly impossible not to overdraw. Abhorrence, like anger, can seldom be restrained within absolutely just limits. Take it with what abatement you think fit.

When she spoke, it was in the smoothest, blandest of tones, carefully ignoring everything in my words or manner that might have constituted a cause of offence. "I am very sorry to hear it. Not that I blame you in the least, my dear, of course you could have done nothing else under the circumstances, but I regret that Rick should have been so precipitate, and that you should have been so annoyed. But he is very young and impulsive, and you are " -she hesitated a moment, and I fancied there was a faint tinge of sarcasm in the tone wherewith she finished the sentence-"very attractive. I think you can afford to forgive him for the compliment (for such it was, after all), notwithstanding it was a little ill-timed. Allow me to say,

furthermore, that it gratifies me to know that your rejection was based on grounds quite disconnected with his merits, and that I shall, of course, respect every confidence with which you have honored me,-and so we will dismiss the subject and forget it!

She paused, as if expecting a reply, but as I made none, she continued, after a moment,

"Let me trust that this untoward little incident may not interrupt the course of the acquaintance so pleasantly begun. Rick leaves us this afternoon, you know, and will not return for some months. And Carrie takes such a fancy to you!-you seem to have bewitched both my children! And I own that I had hoped for much benefit to Carrie from your society. She really has none, at present. I am, perhaps, needlessly particular about her associates; but I want her to retain the tone and manner of the sphere in which I moved so long, and I am afraid she might lose it, if she mingled too freely with Shiloh people. Not,"she hastened to say; as if conscious that this implied too sweeping a censure, or she might have seen the involuntary curl of my lip,-"not that I suppose there are no persons here with whom she might fitly associate; but, as I never go out myself, I have no means of knowing who they are, so I have preferred to keep her at home altogether. If report says true, your heart opens freely enough to any claim upon its kindness-if not upon its deeper affection. Do me the favor, as an old friend of your father, to number her among your friends, or protégés!"

To say truth, I never felt less inclined to confer a favor in my life. "That," said I, coldly, "must be as circumstances determine. Friendships are apt to take their own course."

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True," she returned, with imperturbable good-humor, "and I think yours will set towards Carrie, if allowed to take its own course. She is both lovable and loving,-capable of blind adoration and unquestioning trust to a de