"And made a good choice of an attendant for you in Alice Wood?"

"You have, indeed. She is teachable and handy." (This, then, I thought, is Miss Oliver, the heiress, favored, it seems, in the gifts of fortune, as well as in those of nature! What happy combination of the planets presided over her birth, I wonder?)

"I shall come up and help you to teach sometimes," she added. "It will be a change | for me to visit you now and then; and I like a change. Mr. Rivers, I have been so gay during my stay at S. Last night, or rather this morning, I was dancing till two o'clock. The -th regiment are stationed there, since the riots; and the officers are the most agreeable men in the world: they put all our young knifegrinders and scissor-merchants to shame."

It seemed to me that Mr. St. John's under iip protruded, and his upper lip curled a moment. His mouth certainly looked a good deal compressed, and the lower part of his face unusually stern and square, as the laughing girl gave him this information. He lifted his gaze, too, from the daisies, and turned it on her. An unsmiling, a searching, a meaning gaze it was. She answered it with a second laugh; and laughter well became her youth, her roses, her dimples, her bright eyes.

As he stood, mute and grave, she again fell to caressing Carlo. "Poor Carlo loves me," said she "He is not stern and distant to his friends; and if he could speak, he would not be silent."

"Not a seasonable hour! But I declare it is. It is just the hour when papa most wants company; when the works are closed, and he has no business to occupy him. Now, Mr. Rivers, do come. Why are you so very shy, and so very somber?" She filled up the hiatus his silence left by a reply of her own.

I forgot," she exclaimed, shaking her beautiful curled head, as if shocked at herself. "I am so giddy and thoughtless! Do excuse me. It had slipped my memory that you have good reasons to be indisposed for joining in my chatter. Diana and Mary have left you, and Moor House is shut up, and you are so lonely. I am sure I pity you. Do come and see papa."

"Not to-night, Miss Rosamond, not to-night." Mr. St. John spoke almost like an automaton; himself only knew the effort it cost him thus to refuse.

Well, if you are so obstinate, I will leave you; for I dare not stay any longer; the dew begins to fall. Good-evening!"

She held out her hand. He just touched it. "Good-evening!" he repeated, in a voice low and hollow as an echo. She turned; but in a moment returned.

"Are you well?" she asked. Well might she put the question: his face was blanched as her gown.

"Quite well," he enunciated; and, with a bow, he left the gate. She went one way; he another. She turned twice to gaze after him, as she tripped fairylike down the field: he, as he strode firmly across, never turned at all.

This spectacle of another's suffering and sacrifices wrapped my thoughts from exclusive meditation on my own. Diana Rivers had designated her brother" inexorable as death.” She had not exaggerated.

CHAPTER XXXII.

I CONTINUED the labors of the village school as actively and faithfully as I could. It was truly hard work at first. Some time elapsed before, with all my efforts, I could comprehend my scholars and their nature. Wholly untaught, with faculties quite torpid, they seemed to me hopelessly dull; and, at first sight, all dull alike ; but I soon found I was mistaken. There was As she patted the dog's head, bending with a difference among them as among the educanative grace before his young and austere ted; and when I got to know them, and they master, I saw a glow rise to that master's me, this difference rapidly developed itself. face. I saw his solemn eye melt with sudden, Their amazement at me, my language, my rules fire, and flicker with resistless motion. Flush- and ways, once subsided, I found some of these ed and kindled thus, he looked nearly as beau- heavy-looking, gaping rustics, wake up into tiful for a man as she for a woman. His sharp-witted girls enough. Many showed chest heaved once, as if his large heart, weary themselves obliging, and amiable, too; and I of despotic constriction, had expanded, despite discovered among them not a few examples of the will, and made a vigorous bound for the at-natural politeness and innate self-respect, as tainment of liberty. But he curbed it, I think, as a resolute rider would a curb a rearing steed. He responded neither by word nor movement to the gentle advances made him.

"

Papa says you never come to see us now," continued Miss Oliver, looking up. "You are quite a stranger at Vale Hall. He is alone this evening, and not very well; will you return with me and visit him?”

It is not a seasonable hour to intrude on M. Oliver," answered St. John.

|

well as of excellent capacity, that won both my good will and my admiration. These soon took a pleasure in doing their work well-in keeping their persons neat-in learning their tasks regularly-in acquiring quiet and orderly manners. The rapidity of their progress, in some instances, was even surprising; and an honest and happy pride I took in it; besides, I began personally to like some of the best girls, and they liked me. I had among my scholars several farmers' daughters-young women

grown, almost.

These could already read, write, and sew; and to them I taught the elements of grammar, geography, history, and the finer kinds of needlework. I found estimable characters among them-characters desirous of information, and disposed for improvementwith whom I passed many a pleasant evening hour in their own homes. Their parents then (the farmer and his wife) loaded me with attentions. There was an enjoyment in accepting their siraple kindness, and in repaying it by a consideration-a scrupulous regard to their feelings to which they were not, perhaps, at all times accustomed, and which both charmed and benefited them; because, while it elevated them in their own eyes, it made them emulous to merit the deferential treatment they re-heart is already laid on a sacred altar-the fire

| his marble-seeming features, though they refused to relax, changed indescribably; and in their very quiescence became expressive of a repressed fervor, stronger than working muscle or darting glance could indicate.

ceived.

Of course, she knew her power; indeed, he did not, because he could ot, conceal it from her. In spite of his Christian stoicism, when she went up and addressed him, and smiled gayły, encouragingly, even fondly in his face, his hand would tremble, and his eye burn. He seemed to say, with his sad and resolute look, if he did not say it with his lips, "I love you, and I know you prefer me. It is not despair of success that keeps me dumb; if I offered my heart, I believe you would accept it. But that

is arranged round it; it will soon be no more than a sacrifice consumed."

I felt I became a favorite in the neighborhood. Whenever I went out, I heard on all And then she would pout like à disappointed sides cordial salutations, and was welcomed child; a pensive cloud would soften her rawith friendly smiles. To live amid general re- dient vivacity; she would withdraw her hand gard, though it be but the regard of working- hastily from his, and turn in transient petulance people, is like "sitting in sunshine, calm and from his aspect, at once so heroic and so sweet" serene inward feelings bud and bloom martyr-like. St. John, no 'doubt, would have under the ray. At this period of my life, my given the world to follow, recall, retain her, heart far oftener swelled with thankfulness than when she thus left him; but he would not give sunk with dejection; and yet, reader, to tell one chance of heaven, nor relinquish, for the you all, in the midst of this calm, this useful elysium of her love, one hope of the true, eterexistence-after a day passed in honorable ex-nal paradise. Besides, he could not bound all ertion among my scholars, an evening spent that he had in his nature-the rover, the aspiin drawing or reading contentedly alone-I rant, the poet, the priest-in the limits of a sinused to rush into strange dreams at night-gle passion. He could not-he would not-redreams many-colored, agitated, full of the ideal, the stirring, the stormy-dreams where, amid unusual scenes, charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic chance, I still again and again met Mr. Rochester, always at some exciting crisis; and then the sense of Miss Oliver already honored me with frebeing in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting quent visits to my cottage. I had learned her his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving whole character, which was without mystery him, being loved by him-the hope of passing or disguise; she was coquetish, but not hearta lifetime at his side, would be renewed, with less exacting, but not worthlessly selfish. all its first force and fire. Then I awoke; She had been indulged from her birth, but was then I recalled where I was, and how situated; not absolutely spoiled. She was hasty, but then I rose up on my curtainless bed, trem-good-humored; vain (she could not help it, bling and quivering; and then the still, dark night witnessed the convulsion of despair, and heard the burst of passion. By nine o'clock the next morning, I was punctually opening the school-tranquil, settled, prepared for the steady duties of the day.

nounce his wild field of mission warfare for the parlors and the peace of Vale Hall. I learned so much from himself, in an inroad I once, despite his reserve, had the daring to make on his confidence.

when every glance in the glass showed her such a flush of loveliness), but not affected; liberal-handed; innocent of the pride of wealth; ingenuous; sufficiently intelligent; gay, lively, and unthinking; she was very charming, in short, even to a cool observer of her own sex Rosamond Oliver kept her word in coming to like me; but she was not profoundly interestvisit me. Her call at the school was generallying or thoroughly impressive. A very differmade in the course of her morning ride. She ent sort of mind was hers from that, for inwould canter up to the door on her pony, fol- stance, of the sisters of St. John. Still, 1 lowed by a mounted livery servant. Any thing liked her almost as I liked my pupil Adèle; exmore exquisite than her appearance, in her pur- cept that, for a child whom we have watched ple habit, with her Amazon's cap of black velvet over and taught, a closer affection is engenderplaced gracefully above the long curls that kisseded than we can give an equally attractive adult her cheek and floated to her shoulders, can scarcely be imagined; and it was thus she would enter the rustic building, and glide through the dazzled ranks of the village children. She generally came at the hour when Mr. Rivers was engaged in giving his daily catechising lesson. Keenly, I fear, did the eye of the visitress pierce the young pastor's heart.lusus naturæ, she affirmed, as a village schoolA sort of instinct seemed to warn him of her entrance, even when he did not see it; and when he was looking quite away from the door, if she appeared at it, his cheek would glow, and

acquaintance.

She had taken an amiable caprice to me. She said I was like Mr. Rivers (only, certainly, she allowed, "not one tenth so handsome; though I was a nice, neat little soul enough; but he was an angel"). I was, however, good clever, composed, and firm, like him. I was a

mistress; she was sure my previous history, if known, would make a delightful romance.

One evening, while with her usual childlike activity, and thoughtless yet not offensive in

a penny for her aid. All about me was spotless and bright-scoured floor, polished grate, and well-rubbed chairs. I had also made myself neat, and had now the afternoon before me to spend as I would.

quisitiveness, she was rummaging the cupboard | house, was gone, well satisfied with the fee of and the table-drawer of my little kitchen, she discovered first two French books, a volume of Schiller, a German grammar and dictionary; and then my drawing-materials and some sketches, including a pencil-head of a pretty little cherub-like gi, one of my scholars, and sundry views from nature, taken in the Vale of Morton and on the surrounding moors. She was first transfixed with surprise, and then electrified with delight.

The translation of a few pages of German occupied an hour; then I got my pallet and pencils, and fell to the more soothing, because easier occupation, of completing Rosamond Oliver's miniature. The head was finished already; there was but the background to tint, and the drapery to shade off; a touch of carmine, too, to add to the ripe lips-a soft curl Would I sketch a here and there to the tresses

"Had I done these pictures? Did I know French and German ? What a love-what a miracle I was! I drew better than her master in the first school in S. deeper tinge portrait of her to show to papa ?"

With pleasure," I replied; and I felt a thrill of artist-delight at the idea of copying from so perfect and radiant a model. She had then on a dark-blue silk dress; her arms and her neck were bare; her only ornament was her chestnut tresses, which waved over her shoulders with all the wild grace of natural curls. I took a sheet of fine card-board, and drew a careful outline. I promised myself the pleasure of coloring it; and, as it was getting late then, I told her she must come and sit another day.

to the shadow of the lash under the azured eyelid. I was absorbed in the execution of these nice details, when, after one rapid tap, my door unclosed, admitting St. John Rivers.

"I am come to see how you are spending your holyday," he said. Not, I hope, in thought? No, that is well; while you draw you will not feel lonely. You see, I mistrust' you still; though you have borne up wonderfully so far. I have brought you a book for evening solace," and he laid on the table a new publication—a poem; one of those genuine She made such a report of me to her father, productions so often vouchsafed to the fortunate that Mr. Oliver himself accompanied her next public of those days-the golden age of modern evening—a tall, massive-featured, middle-aged, literature. Alas! the readers of our era are | and gray-headed man, at whose side his lovely less favored. But, courage! I will not pause daughter looked like a bright flower near a either to accuse or repine. I know poetry is hoary turret. He appeared a taciturn, and per- not dead, nor genius lost; nor has Mammon haps a proud personage; but he was very kind gained power over either, to bind or slay; they The sketch of Rosamond's portrait will both assert their existence, their presence, pleased him highly; he said I must make a their liberty, and strength again one day. Powfinished picture of it. He insisted, too, on my erful angels, safe in heaven! they smile when coming the next day to spend the evening at sordid souls triumph, and feeble ones weep Vale Hall. over their destruction. Poetry destroyed? GeI went. I found it a large, handsome resi- nius banished? No! Mediocrity, no: do not dence, showing abundant evidences of wealth let envy prompt you to the thought. No; they in the proprietor. Rosamond was full of glee not only live, but reign, and redeem; and withand pleasure all the time I stayed. Her father out their divine influence spread every where, was affable; and when he entered into conver-you would be in hell-the hell of your own sation with me after tea, he expressed in strong terms his approbation of what I had done in Morton school; and said he only feared, from what he saw and heard, I was too good for the place, and would soon quit it for one more suitable.

to me.

meanness.

While I was eagerly glancing at the bright pages of Marmion (for Marmion it was), St. John stooped to examine my drawing. His tall figure sprang erect again with a start; he said nothing. I looked up at him; he shunned my eye. I knew his thoughts well, and could read his heart plainly; at the moment I felt calmer and cooler than he; I had then temporarily the advantage of him; and I conceived an inclination to do him some good, if I could.

"With all his firmness and self-control," thought I, "he tasks himself too far; locks every feeling and pang within-expresses, confesses, imparts nothing. I am sure it would benefit him to talk a little about this sweet Rosamond, whom he thinks he ought not to marry; I will make him talk."

Indeed!" cried Rosamond, "she is clever enough to be a governess in a high family, papa!" I thought I would far rather be where I am than in any high family in the land. Mr. Oliver spoke of Mr. Rivers-of the Rivers family --with great respect. He said it was a very old name in that neighborhood; that the ancestors of the house were wealthy; that all Morton had once belonged to them; that even now he considered the representative of that house might, if he liked, make an alliance with the best. He accounted it a pity that so fine and talented a young man should have formed he design of going out as a missionary; it was I said first, "Take a chair, Mr. Rivers." But quite throwing a valuable life away. It appear- he answered, as he always did, that he could ed, then, that her father would throw no obsta- not stay. "Very well," I responded, mentally, cle in the way of Rosamond's union with St." stand, if you like; but you shall not go just John. Mr. Oliver evidently regarded the young clergyman's good birth, old name, and sacred profession, as sufficient compensation for the want of fortune.

It was the fifth of November, and a holyday. My little servant, after helping me to clean my

yet, I am determined; solude is at least as bad for you as it is for me. I'll try if I can not discover the secret spring of your confidence, and find an aperture in that marble breast through which I can shed one drop of the halma of sympathy."

"Is this portrait like?" I asked, bluntly. boldness and good will into "the silent sea" of "Like! Like whom? I did not observe it their souls, is often to confer on them the first losely."

I

tre such that she could sympathize in nothing | my ambition is unlimited-my desire to rise I aspired to; co-operate in nothing I under-higher, to do more than others, insatiable. took. Rosainond a sufferer, a laborer, a fe- honor endurance, perseverance, industry, talent, male apostle? Rosamond a missionary's wife? because these are the means by which men No!" achieve great ends, and mount to lofty emi"But you need not be a missionary. You nence. I watch your career with interest, bemight relinquish that scheme."

Relinquish! What-my vocation? My great work? My foundation laid on earth for a mansion in heaven? My hopes of being numbered in the band who have merged all ambitions in the glorious one of bettering their race; of carrying knowledge into the realms of ignorance, of substituting peace for war, freedom for bondage, religion for superstition, the hope of heaven for the fear of hell? Must I relinquish that? It is dearer than the blood in my veins. It is what I have to look forward to, and to live for."

After a considerable pause, I said, "And Miss Oliver? Are her disappointment and sorrow of no interest to you?"

cause I consider you a specimen of a diligent, orderly, energetic woman: not because I deeply compassionate what you have gone through, or what you still suffer."

"You would describe vourself as a mere pagan philosopher," I said.

"No. There is this difference between me and deistic philosophers: I believe; and I be lieve the Gospel. You missed your epithet. I am not a pagan, but a Christian philosopher-a follower of the sect of Jesus. As his disciple, I adopt his pure, his merciful, his benignant doctrines. I advocate them-I am sworn to spread them. Won in youth to religion, she has cultivated my original qualities thus: From the minute germ, natural affection, she has developed the overshadowing tree, philanthropy. From the wild, stringy root of human upright

"Miss Oliver is ever surrounded by suitors and flatterers; in less than a month, my image will be effaced from her heart. She will for-ness she has reared a due sense of the Divine get me, and will marry, probably, some one who will make her far happier than I should do.' You speak coolly enough, but you suffer in the conflict. You are wasting away."

justice. Of the ambition to win power and renown for my wretched self, she has formed the ambition to spread my Master's kingdomto achieve victories for the standard of the "No. If I get a little thin, it is with anxie- cross. So much has religion done for me ty about my prospects, yet unsettled; my de- turning the original materials to the best acparture, continually procrastinated. Only this count-pruning and training nature. But sho morning I received intelligence that the suc- could not eradicate nature; nor will it be erad cessor, whose arrival I have been so long ex-icated till this mortal shall put, on immor pecting, can not be ready to replace me for three months to come yet, and perhaps the three months may extend to six."

You tremble and become flushed whenever Miss Oliver enters the school-room.'

Again the surprised expression crossed his face. He had not imagined that a woman would dare to speak so to a man. For me, I

felt at home in this sort of discourse. I could never rest in communication with strong, discreet, and refined minds, whether male or female, till I had passed the outworks of conventional reserve, and crossed the threshold of confidence, and won a place by their heart's very hearth-stone.

tality."

Having said this, he took his hat, which lay on the table beside my pallet. Once more he looked at the portrait.

"She is well

"She is lovely," he murmured. named the Rose of the World, indeed!" "And may I not paint one like it for you?" "Cui bono? No."

He drew over the picture the sheet of thin paper on which I was accustomed to rest my hand in painting to prevent the card-board from being sullied. What he suddenly saw on this blank paper it was impossible for me to tell; but something had caught his eye. He took it up with a snatch; he looked at the edge, then shot a glance at me, inexpressibly peculiar, and quite incomprehensible-a glance that seemed to take and make note of every point in my shape, face, and dress, for it traversed all, quick, keen as lightning. His lips parted, as if to speak, but he checked the coming sentence whatever it was.

You are original," said he," and not timid. There is something brave in your spirit, as well as penetrating in your eye; but allow me to assure you that you partially misinterpret my emotions. You think them more profound and potent than they are. You give me a larger allowance of sympathy than I have a just claim to. When I color, and when I shake before Miss Oliver, I do not pity myself. I scorn "Nothing in the world," was the reply; and, the weakness. I know it is ignoble-a mere replacing the paper, I saw him dexterously tear fever of the flesh: not, I declare, a convulsion a narrow slip from the margin. It disappear of the soul. That is just as fixed as a rock, ed in his glove; and, with one hasty nod and firm set in the depths of a restless sea. Know"good-afternoon," he vanished. me to be what I am a cold, hard man."

I smiled incredulously.

"What is the matter ?" I asked.

Well!" I exclaimed, using an expression of the district; "that caps the globe, how

"You have taken my confidence by storm," | ever!" he continued," and now it is much at your service. I am simply, in my original state-strip- | ped of that blood-bleached robe with which Christianity covers human deformity-a cold, hard, ambitious man. Natural affection only, of all the sentiments, has permanent power over Reason, and not Feeling, is my guide:

me

I, in my turn, scrutinized the paper; but saw nothing on it, save a few dingy stains of paint, where I had tried the tint in my pencil. I pondered the mystery a minute or two; but, finding it insolvable, and being certain it could not be of much moment, I dismissed and soon forgot it.