SOFTLY STEALING AS THE EVENING VESPER BELL.

“And she was one on whom to fix my heart,
To sit beside me when my thoughts are sad,
And by her tender playfulness impart
Some of her pure joy to me.”

Percival.

“Patience and hope, that keep the soul,
Unruffled and serene,
Though floods of grief beneath it roll,
I learn, when calm and pure,
I see the floating water-lily,
Gleam amid shadows dark and chilly.”

Carolinemay.

The Sea-flower arrived at her new home in safety, the home of our western friends, the Santons. The continued ill-health of Mrs. Santon had been the chief cause of the return of the family to the east. By a favorable turn of fortune, Mr. Santon had come into possession of nearly double the amount of his former wealth, and he was now looked upon as one of Boston’s most prominent citizens. The selling of western lands, which he had obtained for a mere trifle, had been the chief source of revenue in building up his fortune. The little Winifred, whom we left making merry over the Erin simplicity of Biddy and Patrick, had grown to be a young miss of seventeen. Those black eyes of hers, which had attracted the gaze of the tall western youths for the last time, had in no way lost their brilliancy. Mischief still sat triumphant therein, and not a day passed but some poor uninitiated was brought to test the merits of that gift. Miss Winnie looked upon this removal to more enlightened regions, as a change altogether for the best; for how could such as she, at that age which never comes but once in a lifetime, be content to feed on air, a la prairie. She had tired of looking at the same half-dozen raw-boned gallants, and had come to the grand final decision, that her charms should not be wasted thus; and now that she was surrounded by those urbane solicitors, which do mingle with those of more enlargement of brain in fashionable life, they, in turn, began to fear lest those charms might not prove for such as them.

“Mother,” asked Winnie, a few days before the arrival of the Sea-flower, “who is this friend whom you have invited to visit us? that is, I mean to ask, what is she like? I have often heard you speak of your early friend, Mrs. Grosvenor, but you have never seen her daughter, and who knows but she may be, well, I wont say; but you know Nantucket is but an isolated, out-of-the-way place, where fishermen live, and the society in which she has moved, will probably unfit her for enjoying ours. But she will be with us in a day or two, so we shall have to make the best of it.”

“It is many years since I have seen Mrs. Grosvenor; we met when we were both young married ladies, at the house of a friend of mine, in New York, where she was visiting, and I formed an attachment for her then, which has never abated. We have kept ourselves informed of each other’s welfare from time to time, and thinking that the daughter might possess the same amiable disposition as her mother, I thought that her presence in our family might be pleasant to us all, besides gaining for her, under your teachers of music and the languages, a finished education. As for society in Nantucket, I have never learned of what grade it is; but judging from the appearance of the only person I have ever met from there, I do not consider them far behind the age.”

“Well, I hope I shall like her, I am sure; she has a sweet name, Natalie; perhaps we shall like her, after all. But Nantucket brought to my mind such visions of unrefined oil, that I really began to tremble, lest we might come in closer contact therewith than would be at all agreeable”

“Mrs. Santon received the Sea-flower with a mother’s tenderness, but being weary with her journey, Natalie retired early, to dream of those far, low murmurings of the deep, which she had so missed, in lulling her to rest.”

“I am so disappointed in her, mother! she is such a gentle, delicate creature! I know I shall love her! And such spiritual eyes! Did you notice when you asked about her mother, what a sweet expression she wore?”

“She is a beautiful creature, and if I mistake not, she has a heart to match; but she does not resemble her mother at all, in features; I think Captain Grosvenor must have been a fine-looking man;” and Mrs. Santon wore a complacent look, as she thought of the favorable effect which their guest might have upon the mind of her daughter; for owing to frequent ill-health, Mrs. Santon had not been able to be with her child as much as she would have desired, and she feared lest those early traits in her character of impatience, and a proneness to censure others, might grow upon her, under the influence of her father, who was blind to her every fault”

“Ah, ha, miss puss,” said Mr. Santon, who had received a most favorable impression of the Sea-flower, “you will have to look out for that fairy-like creature, or even your bewitching charms will be cast in the shade!” and as he spoke he proudly surveyed his idolized daughter, who was indeed to be classed among the first in the brunette style of beauty.

“Oh, never fear for me, father,” replied Winnie, taking a satisfied survey of her full-length figure, reflected in a pier-glass; “if Boston forgets Winnie Santon’s black eyes, she will be perfectly resigned in gazing into the soul-speaking orbs, which shall usurp her power.”

Other days than those which had been spent in sweet seclusion on Nantucket’s peaceful shores, now dawned upon the Sea-flower. Although not a day passed in which she did not sigh for one dear familiar tone from those she loved so well, for her mother’s fond embrace, and the free, glad laugh of brother Harry, yet she was happy, excelling in those pursuits which seemed to recognize her touch; and her soft voice, as it were of Italian origin, grew to be “the sunshine of the house.” As Biddy often declared, “it was a great saving of canary seed, to have Miss Natalie about the house.”

Time glided on apace with the Sea-flower, as each day brought some new task, calling into activity some talent which had been lying in a dormant state, awaiting its time for expanding. Her teacher of music, an Italian by birth, and of great fame in his profession, was in raptures with the progress of his two pupils, and in the extraordinary talent displayed by the Sea-flower, was he perfectly amazed; for not only was her voice of that soft, mellow style, peculiar to the Italian people, but she performed those pieces which had but just been introduced to an American ear, with all that impassioned tenderness peculiar to that nation.

“I believe you be one of my people!” exclaimed the Signor, after listening in breathless attention to a new piece which he had brought for her; her echoing tones died away, and rose again with gentler pathos, softly, and with sweeter tone, to fall again.

Unconsciously her eyes were fixed upon the Signor as he spoke, and her thoughts were carried back, far away; she knew not whither they would take her, but rousing from her reverie, she merely replied, “I love the peculiar air of your nation, it presents such a striking contrast to our cold, less pathetic style; but do not exclude what Winnie terms ’the productions of the genii’s more sensible moments’ from my list of favorites, for, as there are hours which are divided into sixty distinct parts, so there are divisions within the human heart, which must live each upon its own native air.”

“Natalie, darling, what were you talking with the Signor about? From the few words which I caught, of the human heart, etc., I did not know but the presence of a third person might be agreeably dispensed with;” and it was overtaxing the fringed lids of the mischievous Winnie’s eyes, in adding to their duties the office of sentinel.

“Ah, you rogue; have your critic’s ears been listening to my feeble endeavors to repay the Signor for his untiring labors?”

“One can hear your music without listening, for I was deep in thought of the time when I shall come out from under the tyrannical power of instructors, and can do as I like; for my part, I am tired to death of this continual, ’Miss Winifred, this piece must be executed with milder intonations;’ or, ’Miss Winifred, that chapter of Spanish must be told with greater fluency.’ I have come to dread the very name of Professor, and I never can look out of the window but I see some pale-faced gentleman of the profession approaching, with his badge under his arm; but those edifying ideas all vanished at the first strain of your ’Casta Diva.’ If I could produce such an effect, what would I not give;” and the beauty drew her arm around the Sea-flower, and spoke in a lower tone.

“Natalie, you know I shall come out on my eighteenth birthday, and that will be in a very short time; then I can do as I like; but how can I let all of these charming performances of the celebrated Madam Forresti, whose name is in every mouth, pass without hearing her? I must say, I was completely nonplussed, when young Montague asked me, this morning, what I thought of her! and when I told him I had not heard her as yet, he was perfectly astonished, and said I must hear her this very night!”

“But you did not accept of his invitation, Winnie?”

“How could I resist such a temptation? I have been longing to hear Madam Forresti, and with Mr. Montague for an escort, I do not see the least impropriety in attending. I need not trouble mother about it, for she is so nervous to-day she will not leave her room; and I do not think she can object to my going.”

“Oh, Winnie! how could you do so? I know your mother would not wish you to appear in public with Mr. Montague! Not but that he may be worthy of attention, but he is the same as a stranger to us, for your father has known him but a little while, and I noticed that your mother appeared uneasy when he called last, for he has made us frequent visits, on so short an acquaintance.”

“You do not surely suppose that my father would introduce any one into his family, who is not a fit associate for his daughter?” retorted Winnie, her face flushing with excitement.

“No, I do not think so; but you would not go without consulting your mother’s wishes?”

“And why not? Mother will never be the wiser for it, and I cannot see that she can reasonably object; besides, am I always to be a child? I must some time or other act for myself.”

“Dear Winnie, do not talk so! You have one of the best of mothers, and she will not deprive you of any pleasure, unless it is for your own good. But do not be displeased with me for speaking my thoughts, for I love you as a sister, and cannot bear to have you do anything that would not be right.”

Winnie was about to give way to those passions which an indulged child invariably possesses, and being naturally of a very sensitive nature, she could not sit easy under those opinions from others, which were in opposition to her own views, and trembling with rage, she turned to the Sea-flower, but the fire of her eye was subdued, her tongue did not give utterance to the bitter, cruel words, which would have sounded so strangely upon an ear that had never known such tones! she gave one look at the gentle, submissive face of the Sea-flower, and burst into tears. Such tears, from the high-spirited Winnie Santon, was a strange sight. Her proud, rebellious spirit had for once been conquered, and what was not such a lesson worth?

“O, Natalie!” she exclaimed, “how I wish I could be like you! I was just upon the point of saying what I know I should have repented! I am so glad you have come to be with us!”

Nothing more was said about going to hear Madame Forresti, but when evening came, Winnie, after leaving a message with Biddy for Mr. Montague, that she must be excused, sought her mother’s room, where she found Sea-flower, who was reading to the invalid, and the rich tones of her voice conveyed far more happiness to her heart, than would have been hers, had she listened to the far-famed songstress, with a conscience speaking of undutifulness. Natalie was reading from the “Christian’s Hope,” and as she read, ever and anon cast her eye toward Winnie, who appeared unusually thoughtful. The nervous state, however, of Mrs. Santon would admit of but little excitement, and as Natalie closed her book, and rose to bid her good-night, she observed that she looked unusually happy, and taking her dear children by the hand, she thanked them tenderly for their devoted attention to her, and drawing close to Winnie she whispered in her ear, “It is such a comfort to me, dear, that you prefer your mother’s sick room to more attractive society!” Had she known of the struggle which had been going on in her daughter’s heart, through the influence of the gentle one whom she looked upon as a well-loved child, her eye could hardly have been brighter than it was, as her child pressed a kiss upon her forehead, and said, “I shall always love best to be with you mother.”

That night Winnie retired with a determination to strive to overcome her sinful ways, and as she heard the voice of the Sea-flower at her evening devotions, (their rooms adjoining,) she spoke aloud, “I will try to be more like her.” With this resolve, she fell asleep; but as the rising sun peeped in at her window, there were to be found no traces of her evening resolutions! If any thing, mischief looked out upon the new day with renewed earnestness, and Winnie Santon was the same gay, reckless creature as ever.

“Ah, ha, miss puss, so your bow is new strung again, is it?” said Mr. Santon to his daughter, as the door closed upon one of the mustached upper ten, who frequently found their way to the elegant mansion of Mr. Santon.

“‘New strung’ with an old string, father; if these exquisites are foolish enough to burn their fingers a second time, they must suffer the consequences.”

Mr. Santon laughed, and merely said, “Oh, you cruel beauty!” returning to his paper again; but, seated in the bay-window was one, who could not thus lightly look upon the conduct of the coquettish Winnie, for it was evident she was a sad coquette. Often had Natalie observed her, as she received each admirer with the same bewitching smile, impressing him with the belief that he of all others was the favored one, and he would depart, to return again as early as the rules of propriety would admit, considering the fair one was not yet out.

“Natalie,” asked Winnie, as she seated herself at her embroidery, “why did you not deign to give Mr. Redfield one of your winning smiles? You are so reserved, and take so little notice of the gentlemen, that I shall begin to think your charms are doomed to fade beneath the convent veil.”

“I was not aware that I did not receive Mr. Redfield with cordiality.”

“Yes, but the absence of that fascinating air, which you know would bring the most unyielding to your feet, is what I am lamenting. Had Mr. Redfield been my only admirer, I should have been jealous of the glances which he cast at you; but I don’t know as there would be any occasion for that, for you, whose heart is made for love, seem to be in no danger at present of losing it.”

“I certainly respect the gentlemen who visit us, but as for having a preference for one more than another, I have not; and, Winnie dear, just ask yourself if you ever give one thought to any one of those who deceive themselves by thinking that they, of all others, are preeminent in your regards.”

“I must acknowledge that I do not give them a thought, after the door once closes upon them; poor, deluded creatures!”

“But do you think it right to deceive them thus?”

“Natie, darling, if you were not the most romantic creature that ever was, I should call you Miss Matter-of-fact! But really, I don’t know as there is anything very criminal in helping such people to open their eyes; they find out, sooner or later, that I am of the opinion, there are as good fish in the sea as ever was caught.”

The Sea-flower said no more, for she feared her words might be worse than useless; but such are never idle words, and though Winnie appeared to give them little heed, yet many times afterward, in the midst of her gaiety, did she remember the Sea-flower’s question, “is it right to deceive thus?”

“Eighteen years old to-day! Mother, just eighteen to-day!” shouted Winnie, as she came into the breakfast room, her cheeks vieing with the red of the rose; “how happy I am!” and casting a look of contempt at the hot rolls and coffee, as if such things were hereafter to be classed among the necessities of the past, she went bounding away to find her father. Opening the door of the boudoir, she paused; arranged upon the table were her birthday gifts, and Mr. Santon had spared no pains to make the collection as rare as possible. In the centre of the table was a set of diamonds for the hair, and as Winnie clasped them about her dark tresses, she laughed outright, exclaiming, “They are so handsome! papa, I cannot wait for night to come! But what is this?” she asked, drawing from a case a string of pearls, and holding them up to the light. In the centre of the collection was one curiously wrought pearl, so formed as to represent a star, and the sparkling of several diamonds from within, produced a very brilliant effect. Examining it closely, she discovered the initials, “N. G.,” wrought upon the setting.”

“It is for you, Natalie!” she exclaimed to the Sea-flower, who stood enjoying Winnie’s delight. “I thank you, father, for remembering dear Natalie.”

“Is it for me?” asked Natalie, hesitating to receive the gift.

“Yes, take it,” said Mr. Santon, putting the treasure into her hand; “keep it as a memento of our high esteem for you; and,” added he, “I, for one, shall petition, after you have finished your studies, to have you remain with us another season, that we may then have more of your society.”

Natalie expressed her sincere thanks, but the mention of remaining another season brought to her remembrance her mother’s last letter, which spoke of her return, and how delighted they would all be to have her in their little home once more.

The long wished-for time, when Winnie should appear in public, as the accomplished Miss Santon, at length arrived. Several hundred cards had been issued for the occasion, and to Winnie’s delight but few regrets had been received; “for,” said she, “what is the use of doing things by the halves?” Mrs. Santon’s health had for the last few days been much improved; so much so, that Winnie had gained from her the promise to fill her station for a part of the evening. The brilliant lights already streamed from every window in the mansion, and the finishing touch, (if such a thing can be said of a lady’s toilet,) had been made by Winnie’s attendant, much to the satisfaction of all concerned; for although the beauty was willing to submit to all the tortures of hair-dressing, etc., etc., yet before she was quite converted into a “Parisian belle,” she positively declared she would suffer none of those officials to come into her presence again for a month. Surveying herself with an air which would have done credit to a queen, she proceeded to the Sea-flower’s apartments, thinking to banter her a little in her endeavors to make perfection perfect; but instead of finding her still in dishabille, she had long ago dismissed her attendant, and was quietly engaged in reading her bible, before she engaged in those scenes of gaiety which had less attractions for her.

“Why, you charming creature!” exclaimed Winnie, “I can’t help comparing you to a fairy, preparing for a camp-meeting!” and her wild laugh was heard reechoing from hall to hall, Natalie smiling at her ludicrous comparison.

“Why do you look at me with such a bewildered gaze, Winnie? Is my simple dress not to your fastidious taste?”

“You could not have found anything more becoming, Natie dear; you will eclipse us all!” and Winnie, taking both her hands in hers, gazed into her face as if spell-bound.

“I have seen some beautiful picture, somewhere,” she exclaimed, “which is like you! but where, I cannot tell; and yet, when I look at you, the association is so fresh in my mind! Yes, you will be our evening star.”

“Venus is morning star now,” said Natalie, glancing at the brilliant dress of Winnie; “yet for all that, she will favor us with her presence this evening.”

As the two descended to the boudoir, they were met by Mr. Santon, who, shutting his eyes, exclaimed, “Bless me! I have looked upon the glorious morning, in the beauty of its freshness, and the gentle evening, so pure, but to see them approaching, hand in hand, is too much for any ‘live man!’”

Escorting the fair ones to Mrs. Santon’s side, he proudly gazed upon their dazzling beauty, beauty in its perfection sitting upon each countenance, and yet, such a contrast! Winnie was arrayed in a rich attire of delicate blue, her boddice wrought about with silver threads, representing the light of the crescent moon, her skirt interwoven with numerous lesser lights, as it were, stars of various magnitudes, producing a splendid effect in the flood of gas-light; and the set of diamonds bound about her dark tresses, which fell in rich profusion about her finely arched neck, setting off her dark complexion, her cheeks roseate with health, to great advantage; and as she moved among her guests; her tall, slender form, so full of dignity, she was the “observed of all observers.” Her winning smile, so dangerous to those gallants in attendance who had never realized the true sense of coquetry, was unusually fascinating, and every one who had been honored by Miss Winnie’s notice, pronounced her decidedly the belle of the season; but as they turned to the gentle creature at her side, their thoughts gradually assumed a different cast, unconsciously the mind wandered to other scenes than are usually of a fashionable evening entertainment. It were absurd to call her a “belle,” for the word seemed void of expression.

The Sea-flower wore a simple dress of white blonde, with no other ornament than the band of pearls, which had been the gift of her well-loved friends. The little star, which was formed by the glittering of the diamonds through the delicately-wrought pearl, which being the centre of the collection was worn upon her forehead, sparkling like tiny drops of dew; and as she glided with unstudied grace among those who sought to know more of her, she gained the name of “the gentle star.”

It was yet early in the evening. Sauntering along one of the principal streets were two young men, engaged in conversation. We will listen awhile, for we may be interested.

“Do you go to Santon’s to-night, Delwood?” asked the younger of the two, who was far less prepossessing in appearance than his companion.

“Umph, yes,” replied the other, in a more reserved tone. “Do you make one of the number?”

“You don’t know Dick Montague if you think he would miss of such an occasion. Wit and beauty do not hold forth every night. Old Santon has but one daughter, you know.”

Mr. Delwood made no reply to these coarse remarks, for nothing could have been in greater contrast, than the refined, gentlemanly nature of Mr. Delwood, to that of young Montague, whom we recognize as the same gentleman (if such young men who wear two faces, putting aside the decorum of intelligent society, for the rude jests and unrefined manners of other associates, can be called gentlemen,) who had attracted Mrs. Santon’s notice by his frequent visits to her daughter. Before proceeding farther, we will give our patient reader a little insight to the history of these two personages, whom we consider of sufficient note in our simple narrative, for inducing us to tear ourselves away, for a little while, from the attractions at Santon Mansion.

Clarence Delwood belonged to one of the most aristocratic families in Boston. He was an only son, upon whom had been bestowed all of those advantages which are to be derived from a princely fortune. At the early age of twenty-two he had graduated at one of the first institutions in Paris, where he had been placed by his haughty, overbearing father, who looked upon things American as low and vulgar. The son had not inherited that proud, unyielding spirit of his father, yet he was like him, inasmuch as he possessed the same dignified, reserved manner, the which, having called forth the startling declaration from manoeuvering mothers, and languishing daughters, that “Mr. Clarence Delwood would look farther than Boston for a bride.” So they had folded their gossamer wings with resignation, receiving his polite attentions with pleasure, yet never being able to penetrate the reserve which hung around him. To say that our hero was handsome, would be saying but little, for one often meets with such; but with the almost feminine pensiveness which characterized his manly features, we meet seldom. Tall and commanding in his appearance, his dark, glossy hair, and finely curved mustache, gave a fine effect to his noble countenance, the peculiar light of his eye speaking volumes.

Such was the character of our friend Delwood, whom we shall shortly usher into the presence of Miss Winnie Santon, that we may find what success those penetrating eyes, which grew big with mischief even in a prairie home, shall have in lifting the veil which concealed in a measure the true sentiments of a noble heart from the world at large.

We give our readers an insight to the character of Richard Montague at once, when we say that he was what is commonly termed “a young man about town.” By some means, a mystery, even to himself, he had gained a foothold among the upper classes of society, and by dint of strict observance of the manners of others, he had been thus far enabled to retain his position. What his prospects in regard to pecuniary affairs were, no one was able to say; suffice it, that there had been rumors of an old bachelor uncle, who was much increased in this world’s goods, whose trembling hand held the desired treasure over the young man’s head; and as this report had not been corrected by Montague, he not being over-burdened with many scruples of conscience, it is not surprising that there should have been those, who looked upon him as a desirable match for their dowerless daughters; but he, having realized the desolation which empty pockets can produce, was now living upon the hope that he might build upon his fortune, which never had foundation, by introducing himself among the fair ones of uppertendom, as a candidate for matrimony. For some time he had had an eye to the well-filled purse of Winnie Santon, and he had looked forward to this night, when she should make her debut, with as great interest as had Winnie herself. Could he once get initiated into her good graces, he had no fears for the rest; and he had already visions of what he was pleased to term, “Old Santon’s chest of gold.” The attentions with which Winnie had received him, on former occasions, had served in no way to lessen his confidence as to his success, and with this end in view, his steps were bent towards the scene of gaiety. Reasons best known to himself, forbidding him to pass Mr. Delwood, whom he overtook on the way.

“Quite an affair to-night! I’m thinking,” remarked Montague, as he observed Delwood’s cool indifference, and endeavoring to draw him into conversation, he added, “there’s a young protege of Santon’s, staying with his daughter, who, I hear, hails from down east. Nantucket, I believe, perhaps we may get a little information on harpooning!”

“Ah?” said Delwood, mechanically.

“Yes, the boys will have some sport I’m thinking; perhaps some of them may be induced to ship as mate, for a down east voyage! I remember of sailing by Nantucket many years ago, on my return from Liverpool, (he did not add that he had worked his passage) and though some twenty miles distant, we fancied that we got a whiff of the hump-backs. Our captain was a jolly sort of fellow, and would have us land-lubbers believe that his experienced eye could see half across the ocean, but he found we were too smart for him, when he told us he could see a church-steeple looming up on the island, for of course we knew that such things were not raised there.”

Much to Mr. Delwood’s relief, they had now arrived at Mr. Santon’s residence. As the name of Delwood was announced, all eyes were turned toward him, for his presence was considered a great acquisition to any circle, and many a fair one envied Winnie Santon, as he claimed her hand for the first dance. The Sea-flower stood by Mrs. Santon’s side, that she might attend to her least wish, when young Montague, disappointed that he had not been the first to secure the hand of Winnie, in an obsequious manner, solicited the pleasure of Miss Grosvenor’s company, to complete the set, but she politely declining the honor, the young man, by the aid of the brass which constituted no small portion of his composition, begged leave to remain by her side, that he might make some few inquiries in regard to her enchanting home, which place he always had a great desire to visit.

“The islanders I suppose are mostly fishermen, yet,” added he, glancing rudely into her face, “there are some persons of intelligence among them, are there not?”

Natalie looked at him for a moment, as if in doubt whether ignorance or some meaner motive had prompted the question, when she remarked, “you evidently have never learned of the great dangers attendant upon a stranger’s visit to Nantucket.”

“Ah, indeed, I shall be under great obligations for the information,” said he, his eyes wide open with curiosity! “pray, what are those dangers?”

“The islanders, as you have imagined, being so unlike the inhabitants of civilized lands, have such a natural propensity for wielding the harpoon, that should a person differing from their kind appear amongst them, they might be liable to capture him, mistaking the object for a new species of land-shark!”

At this piece of information, delivered in such a calm, pleasant manner, the smiles which had been visible on the faces of those who listened, grew into a hearty laugh, in which the chagrined Montague joined, as being the safest way of retreat, and although piqued by the ludicrous position in which he had been placed, he could not but look with admiration upon the gentle creature, whose pleasant repartee had been in self-defence.

Natalie followed with her eye the graceful form of Winnie, as she threaded her way through the dance, occasionally interchanging a witty remark with her handsome partner, and as he lead her to a seat, Natalie observed to Mrs. Santon, “how beautiful dear Winnie is to-night! I do not know who can help loving her!” So enthusiastic was she in her praises, that she had not observed the two contemplating her, and ere she was aware of their approach, the bewitching Winnie had taken her hand, and presenting Mr. Delwood, she mischievously remarked, “Now, Miss critic, it is for you to perform a la perfectione, and depend upon it, you shall be dealt with according to your own measure! for you have not once taken those eyes off from me through the whole course!”

Before Natalie could say a word in her defence, the music had commenced, and ere she had hardly realized it she had taken Winnie’s place by the side of Mr. Delwood. Other eyes than Natalie’s had looked upon Winnie with admiration, as she had leaned upon the arm of Delwood, but now, as he led forth “the gentle star,” the suppressed murmur of applause must have been apparent to the fair one herself had she not been engaged with other thoughts. For several successive figures it so happened that Natalie was the partner of the reserved Mr. Delwood, who never was known to appear a second time upon the floor, and it also happened, how, or at what moment was a mystery, that the two had sought to dispel fatigue, by the conservatory’s soothing influences, whither the eye of Winnie wandered ever and anon, as with Mr. Montague she vied with her competitors in the giddy waltz. Miss Winnie’s brain was capable of containing two thoughts at the same time, and no one would have suspected, absorbed as she appeared to be with the attentions of Montague, who was playing the agreeable to the best of his knowledge, that her curiosity was at work, wondering what the subject of the truants, tete-a-tete might be. “They are discussing the rare exotics, sent to us from the South,” she thought within herself, and indeed, what other could interest the cold-hearted Delwood? who, it was thought had never dreamed of love this side of the Atlantic; and as for Natalie, many a private lecture had she received from Winnie, in regard to her indifference toward the gentleman! though those discourses had been invariably of the same termination, “for all that, Natalie, your heart is made for love.”

From the first moment that Clarence Delwood had set his eye upon the Sea-flower, an interest which he had never known before had been awakened within him. It may be said that it was a weakness, that he had always looked upon women as mere butterflies, but owing to early circumstances, he having been bereft of his mother in infancy, never having known the blessings of a sister’s society, he was not to be condemned for the impressions which a gaudily attired attendant had left upon his mind as he grew up into boyhood. But as he listened to the Sea-flower, as she told him of her home in the sea, of the music of the glorious billows, companions of her childhood, filling the very soul with nature’s beauty and sublimity, he looked upon her, as if fearful she might prove an “Undine,” and he would not have been taken by surprise had her spiritual face faded calmly from beneath his gaze, to join her sister nymphs of ocean.

“And you will soon return to your island home?” he asked, as a thought of the warmth with which she had expressed herself to a stranger, bade her pause in her enthusiasm with downcast eye.

“Yes, I shall soon return,” she answered joyously, “and yet I shall remember Boston with feelings of pleasure, for I have spent happy hours here.”

As she said this, their eyes involuntarily met; a silent spectator would have noted the contrast of the moistened blue, to the deep black of sterner make, but as it was, that contrast was not discovered, each felt that the other was reading the thought, which had but then sprung up within the soul. Natalie withdrew her gaze, while Delwood, stooping to pluck a moss rose-bud from an urn at her feet, placed it within his diamond fastener, and the two retraced their steps to join their friends again. Montague was still at Winnie’s side, and though the unusual flush upon Natalie’s cheek was a sad tell-tale of the state of affairs, yet she observed Winnie as she listened with a ready ear to Montague’s remarks, and an unpleasant feeling rose in her heart; she could not bear to have her dear friend on such intimate terms with him, whom, as by a natural instinct she shunned.

All things must have an end; and the cheerful lights, which houseless ones had watched as the bright beams fell across the pave, one by one had faded. Formal adieus had been said, kind wishes interchanged, and the last sound of rumbling wheels had died away. Excess of excitement bade the blooming Winnie seek repose, and quiet reigned triumphant at Santon Mansion; yet there was one who seemed to have forgotten that the morning follows so close upon the evening. The Sea-flower had lingered among the last to say adieu, and now, in her own apartment, she had sunk into a chair, the delicate pearls still encircling her sunny tresses, vieing in purity with her fair complexion; her eyes were fixed on vacancy, and she was not aware that the morning was peeping in upon her, till started from her reveries by her own gentle sighs.

And what spell is this that so usurps the calm, usually characteristic of her nature? We have a vague suspicion as to what it may be, yet she is all innocent of the source from which these new feelings have sprung; even the last low words of Delwood, which are still sounding in her ear, do not lead her to mistrust, and we leave her, as the fringed eyelids at last droop in repose, to take a peep at our hero, who is only distant a few squares from the gentle one, who, he feels, as he sits by the gas-light, made pallid by the dawn of day, is all the world to him.

If Delwood possessed the cold heart, of which the world gave him the credit, its fetters had at last yielded to the genial sunshine. Sleep was most remote from him, and pacing his room with a quick tread, he uttered, in a sarcastic tone “Love! Clarence Delwood in love! Love at first sight! I never would have credited it!” his voice softening, he added “I feel confident that she of all others, is the only one who could have wrought this change! No, I cannot look upon this as weakness! I must see more of her; she is an angel of purity, too good for such as I. Can she think favorably of me? and what will my father say, if he learns that his only son will sue for favor in the eyes of it may be a maiden of low birth! It matters not! Should he disinherit me, I will seek her society! I must love her even though she look upon me coldly. I will see her again this very day!” with these resolves he threw himself upon his couch, if he might get a little rest, before he again went forth into the busy day, with feelings how changed!

Natalie was awakened from her late slumbers, by a kiss from Winnie, whose merry voice made the apartment ring. “So, ho! Miss Natalie,” she exclaimed, “you have been holding late revels with the water nymphs by moonlight! and now, when the stronger light of the sun bids us mortals awake, you have made good your retreat, and are enjoying Morpheus’s protecting care! but I can guess from whence the smiles came, as you slept! never fear, darling, I’ll tell nobody of whom you dreamed!”

“Why, Winnie dear,” exclaimed Natalie, endeavoring to free herself from the kisses which that crazy little body was lavishing upon her, “have I slept so late? and what has turned your head so early this morning? I do not know what will become of us all before the day is ended, if you go on thus.” Opening her eyes, she looked about her, endeavoring to collect her senses. Her eye fell upon a bouquet, of the finest, most delicate flowers, in a vase, upon her toilet table; it had evidently been placed there since she had retired, as she did not remember of seeing it before. “You are very kind, Winnie, in being so thoughtful of me,” she said, “but where did you get those beautiful varieties? they are not from our conservatory.”

“O, you innocent rogue! you think to make me believe you know nothing of them, do you? they certainly came from some one who was thoughtful of your well-being! but come, make yourself look as charming as possible, for there is a friend awaiting us in the drawing room, who it is, I’ll not say, for ‘haste makes waste,’ you know!”

Natalie blushed, for there came at once a rush of thoughts to her mind. She but then remembered the pleasures of last evening. Winnie giving her a knowing look, left her to her own reflections. Banishing all other thoughts from her mind, Natalie kneeled at her morning devotions, her low voice went up in thanks for the many blessings which were hers, not forgetting to ask for greater favors for her dear mother and brother, whom she expected so soon to meet, in two short weeks, at the time which had been fixed, when she would return to her home.

A simple morning dress of pink delise, edged with white, set off her light figure to a charm; her snowy collar fastened with a cross, and taking a lily of the valley from the mysterious bouquet, she placed it in her hair, and half-hesitating, lest Winnie had been playing off one of her mischievous tricks, she descended to the drawing-room. Seated upon an ottoman, was no other than Clarence Delwood, who arose as she entered, taking her proffered hand with some little embarrassment, which was soon dispelled by the adroit Winnie, who took a seat at the piano, and with a rich full voice sang the last opera. “Your friend, Miss Santon, has an enviable voice,” remarked Delwood to Natalie, regarding the lily buds which he recognized as of the bouquet which he had ordered his servant to place in the hands of her attendant, giving no name of the donor. “Yes, I love to listen to her voice, it is so full of feeling; she has a peculiar style! The Signor tells me her voice is of great talent.”

“I need not ask of your own voice,” remarked Delwood, “for your tone betrays you.”

“Yes,” cried Winnie, who in spite of the music had an ear alive to the conversation, “it is moved and seconded that Miss Grosvenor shall give us a benefit, and if she fails to entertain us with her first attempt, she will lay herself open to be called upon again.”

“She may rest assured that your sentiments, however expressed, will be truth in regard to the matter! for you are far from being a flatterer,” said Mr. Santon, as entering the apartment he welcomed Mr. Delwood to his house. Natalie chose a simple piece “The Wanderer’s Home,” and as the sound of her voice died away, there was not a dry eye in the room. Winnie was the first to break the spell, and smiling away a tear, she exclaimed, “I had forgotten to caution you against too great success in charming your listeners, therefore the encores of your audience will not permit you to retire without feeding the flame which you have excited.”

“Remember you were not to flatter me,” said Natalie, glancing at Delwood, who was silently contemplating her.

“Flattery or no flattery, you must repeat that to please me,” said Mr. Santon, making manifest exertions to clear his throat, and looking for his handkerchief, as if suddenly seized with a cold. The piece was repeated with greater effect, and it was not till Winnie began to rally him that Delwood was aware of his negligence in escorting the fair songstress to a seat. “Pardon me, Miss Grosvenor,” he said, “but the first tone of your voice carried me far back, to when I was a child of five or six years. It was in Italy, where my father spent some time, after my mother’s death, and it so happened that I was permitted to accompany him to an entertainment given by an Italian lady of note, who, in the course of the evening, favored the company with a song. I was engaged with some sweetmeats as she commenced, but as she proceeded, gradually they fell from my hands, and when she had finished, I had found my way to her side, and clinging to her dress I burst into tears, begging her to take me to that beautiful place again! It is years since I have thought of the circumstance, and I trust you will pardon my enthusiasm, when I say that your “Wanderer’s Home,” has produced a similar effect!”

Natalie expressed her thanks for the compliment, with blushing modesty, and as Delwood bade them good morning, after having made arrangements for testing their courage with his iron grays, on the following morning; so long did his eye linger upon her, who had full command of his every thought, that he did not observe miss Winnie, who was trembling lest her fresh supply of mischief should come to an unendurable crisis, before he should depart.

It was soon rumored that the lion had been tamed, that the beautiful Miss Grosvenor had found her way to the heart of Clarence Delwood. Boston beauties sighed, and those who had been unsuccessful in what is sometimes termed “setting their caps,” looked on with interest, but none who had seen the favored one, could find it in their hearts to wish her other than a life of joy. And thus time passed on, scarcely a day sped, but Clarence Delwood was seen ascending the steps of Mr. Santon’s hospitable mansion. As Winnie expressed herself “the affair was coming on bravely;” she had now found for whom Natalie was reserving that heart, which in spite of her caution, would impart to others its only element. The time was also drawing near, when Natalie was to have made glad her mother’s heart by her presence. Old Vingo had desired his Massa Harry to write to young Missy, “dat eben de breakers gettin’ impatient to see her once more, and dat he walk alone now, on de beach in de moonlight, but he neber ’speck to find anoder Sea-flower.”

In a few days the Santon family were to part with Natalie. It was in vain they had urged upon her to remain with them another season, for as much as she had become attached to them all, she longed to see her home once more. Even Winnie failed to keep time with her usually joyous spirits, and there was one to whom this parting was not to be thought of. Mr. Delwood had as yet received no positive assurance, that his unmistakable sentiments towards Natalie were reciprocated, and yet he was confident that she regarded him with no common interest. He had read it in her soul, but he would hear from her own lips if happiness or misery was to be his through life, and it was with a nervous step that he wended his way on this last evening of her stay in Boston, that he might hear his fate. As he drew near the house, he observed, though early in the evening, but one dim light gleaming from an upper apartment, and as he reached the gate it was fast, and a porter stood within, who, to Delwood’s hurried question if all was well, as he threw him a gold-piece, replied in a sad tone “kind sir, my orders are to receive no one, as my mistress is dying, or you should have admittance at once; but I know that you, of all others, could serve to lighten the blow to my master, and if you take the responsibility, you shall be admitted.”

“Leave that with me,” he replied, “you shall not be censured,” and with assumed calmness of manner, he entered. Noiselessly he opened the outer door, proceeding to the upper drawing-room, which opened to the room of the dying one. Mr. Santon sat with his face buried in his hands, sobbing aloud. Mr. Delwood took him tenderly by the hand, and whispered a few words in his ear, which seemed to rouse him from the dreadful state of mind to which he had yielded. “You find here a house of mourning,” he said, “but your presence is most welcome.”

“What can I do for you in this trying hour?” asked Delwood; “can I be of any assistance?”

“There is nothing to be done but to submit to the will of God,” he answered, “and I pray that I may have strength so to do.” The door of the chamber of death was opened, and the physician summoned Mr. Santon to his dying wife’s bedside. Delwood stood in the door; pale, but not emaciated were the features upon which death had set his seal, her last moment was near, but she had strength and consciousness supported by the Sea-flower, to say a few parting words; with one hand in that of her husband, the other upon the head of her grief-stricken daughter, she said: “farewell, my dearest husband; it is but a little parting; you will meet me there at last.” Turning to the Sea-flower, with her hand still upon the head of her daughter, she added, “my child will soon be motherless; through you, she is what I could wish to see her; and when I am gone, will you never lose sight of her? make her to be like yourself!” In a feeble voice she continued, “thank God that we may see heaven upon earth; the gentle spirit is pointing me to my rest;” a slight trembling of her weary frame, and she had gone to be with the “just made perfect;” a smile was upon her features, and they smoothed her limbs as for a night’s repose. The father mingled his tears with those of his child, who was all that was left to him. The Sea-flower, leaning upon the arm of him who thought it not unmanly to weep over the scene he had witnessed, retired, leaving the afflicted ones to weep away the anguish in their hearts, ere they might look upon the loving kindness of Him, whose ways are all perfect.