Chapter VII

"Thy haunting influence, how it mocks
My efforts to forget!
The stamp love only seals but once
Upon my heart is set."

Winnie Morris was laying her pretty head on her kind teacher's shoulder, and pleading, O, so eloquently, with her sweet lips and eyes!

"Indeed, I want to go very much, dear Aunt Debby, and Jack will be so disappointed if you say no. He sent me to plead, because he said nobody could resist me. Will you not let me go this once, if I'll promise never to ask again?"

"The theatre is not a fit place for young girls," said the teacher, with a serious mien; "by going there they obtain false ideas of life."

"But I won't, Aunt Debby, I'm sure I won't, by going just once."

The good-natured teacher patted the soft cheek of her winsome pleader, and the gentle act seemed to convince the child that she was gaining her point.

"O, Debby, Debby!" she exclaimed, throwing her white arms round the good woman's neck; "you will let me go with Jack to-night, I know."

"For which do you most wish to go: to see the play, or to be with him?" asked Debby, still delaying the wished-for permission.

"O, to be with him!" answered Winnie; "and I could not be with him unless I went out somewhere, for brother Wayland is cross at Jack; only think of it--cross at my Jack! And he asks Mrs. Pulsifer whenever Jack comes to see me, and then scolds; or not exactly that,--but says I ought not to associate with a person he does not approve, and that Jack is wild and unsteady, and won't love me long; but he doesn't know him as well as I do, or he wouldn't say so, I'm sure;" and Winnie grew eloquent, and her cheeks flushed vermilion red, while she spoke of her girlish love. But Miss Deborah's face had assumed a less yielding expression during her fair pupil's recital.

"So it appears your brother is not pleased with young Mr. Camford," she remarked, as Winnie ceased; "under the circumstances, you must apply to him for permission to accompany Master Jack to the theatre."

"O, dear! I wish I had not said a word," sobbed Winnie. "'Tis no use to go to Wayland, for I know he would refuse my request; so I may as well make up my mind to pass the evening alone in my room. I'm more sorry for Jack, after all, than myself, he will be so sadly disappointed. Good-night, Aunt Debby," and with dejected aspect the young girl put on her little straw hat and left the school-room.

The evening stole on, and Jack Camford was beside his cousin Alice, in her quiet apartment.

"I don't see why Wayland Morris should hate me so inveterately, as to forbid his sister to receive any calls from me," remarked the youth, bitterly.

"How do you know he does so?" inquired Alice, without raising her eyes from the German worsted pattern on which she was occupied.

"Because Winnie told me so, to-night. I had invited her to attend the theatre, but it appears she dared not ask her brother's permission, for fear of a refusal," said Jack, in a troubled tone. "You are acquainted with Mr. Morris, Alice?"

"No," returned she, quickly.

"Why, he calls on you."

"He did call at the house once or twice, soon after my arrival here, I believe."

"Once or twice!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise; "why, he was here almost every day for several months, and we all thought you were declared lovers."

"Hush, Jack! how you are running on!" said Alice, with a flushed countenance.

"Well, don't tell me you are not acquainted with young Morris, then," returned Jack.

"I have not seen him, as you are aware, for the last six months," remarked Alice.

"But you _could_ see him very easily."

"So could you."

"Ah, Alice! I thought you would do me so small a favor."

"As what?"

"See Mr. Morris, and ascertain why he opposes my addresses to his sister."

"Is he the only one who opposes you?"

"You allude to my family; but not one of them should control me, in this matter, if I could win her from her brother."

"You are very young, Jack; wait a few years, and your feelings will change."

The boy looked on his cousin as she uttered these words with so much apparent indifference, and exclaimed:

"O, Alice! you have never loved, or you could not talk thus to me," and hurriedly left the apartment.

Alice heard him rush down the hall stairs and into the street. "Poor Jack!" she sighed; "but what could I do for him? To place myself before Wayland Morris, and plead my cousin's suit with his sister, when probably the very cause of his objection to their acquaintance is that the lover is a relation of mine; and it appears that by some misapprehension I have as unwittingly as unfortunately incurred his displeasure. What other reason can there be for the cessation of his visits, but that he does not desire to see me?"

Ay, what other indeed, Alice? If you would have Wayland's love, there could not be a stronger proof that 'tis yours, than this apparent neglect and forgetfulness. Love joys in mystery,

"Shows most like hate e'en when 'tis most in love,
And when you think 'tis countless miles away,
Is lurking close at hand."

So, be not too sad, Ally, dear, when the brave steamboat bears you up the majestic Mississippi, and far onward over the beautiful Ohio, amid her wild, enchanting scenery, and the dashing railroad cars at length set you down on a quiet summer evening at your mother's rural threshold. Try hard to say, "I have forgotten Wayland Morris;" but your heart will rebel; and try harder to say, "I shall never behold his face again;" still "hope will tell a flattering tale;" and try hardest of all to exclaim, "I'll fly his presence forever." But yet, away down low in your beating bosom, a little voice will love to tantalize and whisper--"Will you, though?"