Chapter XV

"O, loveliest time! O, happiest day!
When the heart is unconscious, and knows not its sway;
When the favorite bird, or the earliest flower,
Or the crouching fawn's eyes make the joy of the hour,
And the spirits and steps are as light as the sleep
Which never has wakened to watch or to weep.
She bounds on the soft grass,--half woman, half child,
As gay as her antelope, almost as wild.
The bloom of her cheek is like that on her years.
She has never known pain--she has never known tears;
And thought has no grief, and no fear to impart;
The shadow of Eden is yet on her heart."

L. E. L.

"Father!" said Florence Howard, the second day of her first vacation, "had I not better study Latin next term?"

"Latin!" answered he in a tone of surprise, "why should you study that?"

"O, for discipline to my mind," returned Florence.

"I think you will find the acquirement of French and Italian sufficient discipline," said he.

"O, but they are so easily learned! I want something more difficult--something I have to study hard on."

"Why, you would be running to me to get your lessons for you half the time!" said her father, laughing.

"No, I wouldn't," answered she, shaking her curly head cunningly. "Edgar would assist me."

"Edgar! and who is he?" inquired Major Howard.

"Why, Edgar Lindenwood! You know him," returned she.

"No, certainly I don't know anything about him," said her father.

"Why, you have seen the tall boy with the morocco cap and light curls, that used to walk to school with me last term!" said Florence, looking earnestly in his face.

"O, yes! I have seen him frequently," returned Major H. "What do you say is his name?"

"Edgar Lindenwood."

"And where does he live?"

"With his uncle."

"And who is his uncle?"

"The Hermit of the Cedars."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Major Howard. "And so, this young hermit is going to teach you Latin, Miss Florence? Romantic, upon my word!"

"Edgar is not a hermit!" said Florence, pouting her red lips and assuming an air of dignity which vastly amused her father. "He is brave, and bright, and handsome, and, our preceptor says, already a finer scholar than many a graduate from the university."

"Well, well; I cannot argue the merits of this favorite of yours, Florence," said her father; "but I promise to give him a larger share of my attention henceforth."

"I wish you would, father," said Florence. "I may bring him home with me from school some day,--may I not?"

"No!" returned Major Howard. "I can notice him in the street."

"But you cannot judge of him so far off," pursued Florence. "He looks better the nearer you approach him."

"I shall judge him best at a distance," remarked her father, moving away.

Florence did not exactly like the tone of voice in which he uttered these last words; but she soon forgot all else in the contemplation of studying Latin, and having Edgar's assistance in learning her lessons. She had never in her life taken any note of time,--never felt it lag heavily on her hands; but it appeared to her now that these interminable days of vacation would never come to an end. She passed one of them with Edith and Rufus Malcome, and this was by far the most insupportable of any. "She loved Edith dearly," she said; "but could not endure the childish prattle and frivolity of Rufus."

He was six months older than Florence, and Edith had seen seventeen summers, while Florence was only in her fifteenth; but she was so well matured in manners and appearance as to seem the senior of the delicate, retiring Edith.

Col. Malcome paid her many courteous attentions during her visit, and expressed an ardent hope that a friendship and intimacy might spring up between her and his daughter.

Florence said she should be delighted to form a companionship with Edith.

"We are located so near the seminary," said Col. Malcome, as she was preparing to return home, and Rufus stood waiting to accompany her; "while your father's mansion is so distant, that it will be very convenient for you, on rough days, to come and pass the night with Edith. Indeed, I should be highly gratified if you would make my house a sort of second home, and come in, familiarly, every day, if you choose."

Florence thanked him for his kindness, kissed Edith, and descended to the street in company with Rufus.

Col. Malcome approached the window and regarded the couple earnestly till they passed beyond his view, while strange, dark, commingled expressions passed over his face. Edith crept up to him and said softly, "What troubles you, father?"

He looked down sternly on her sweet, upturned face, and said in a tone of strong command:

"Edith, I desire you to cultivate the acquaintance of Florence Howard by every means in your power."

"I shall be glad to do so, father," answered she, with a look and tone which deprecated his sternness.

"'Tis well, then," said he, relaxing his brow and imprinting a kiss on her soft cheek as he turned away and stepped forth upon the piazza. The full moon was just rising in the east; the river rippled sweetly in the distance, and the whippoorwills piped their sharp, shrill notes on the hushed evening air. Suddenly he heard the garden-gate unclose, and, turning, beheld Mrs. Edson and her husband approaching. Descending the marble steps, he met them in the avenue, and, after a cordial interchange of salutations, ushered them into the gas-lighted drawing-room, where Edith, in a gossamer-like muslin, reclined on a velvet ottoman.

The evening passed pleasantly to all but Mr. Edson, who sat like a pantomime in a play, staring and grinning at what he could not understand or digest. Col. Malcome seemed, however, to take a malicious pleasure in placing his guest in the most awkward positions, and showing off his own superior grace and polish to the best advantage. If anything, he rather overdone. But perhaps he thought with Mrs. Salsify Mumbles in this case, "Better overshoot than fall short." Louise was graceful and self-possessed as usual; and it must be confessed did not appear very much disconcerted when Col. M. showed her husband in some ridiculous light, or mercilessly uncurtained his crude, narrow-minded opinions and ideas.

Scorn and contempt for the man she had married were fast mastering all kinder feelings she once had toward him.