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Only Mr. Merkes would have nursed the thought “Can't do any thing with you, Ellis," says with indignation, whereas Wall throttles and Mr. Langdon, who has now reached the railed casts it out as soon as it is born. He seats space, and, with hand thrust through the rails, himself with a “Thank you" in the black cush- is working the impatient fingers thereof under ion of the nearest office-chair, and takes the the nose of the clerk. “Check, Jones, twenty crisp morning paper that he may glance over thousand five hurdred!" the top of it around him.

“Would endow a professor's chair!" says It is a noble office, twenty by forty feet at Wall to himself, with a rising respect for both least ; the fioor covered with cocoa-nut matting, the gentlemen. the walls hung round with port-folios bearing in Mr. Ellis has the check, and without a word large letters upon their sides the names of all is gone. Mr. Langdon is hurrying out after the leading ports of America and Europe. him, when Mr. Wall rises and bows and catchThere are handsome paintings too of the cele- es his quick eye. brated clippers and steamships of the day. The “Ah, yes!” says the broker, understandthree huge doors standing open upon the busy ing immediately. “How are you? Pleasant street; the library of journals and ledgers, each weather!” Mr. Wall shakes his extended hand. two feet long; the glimpse of several lengthy “Cotton is it? or railway?” asks the brotables in an inner room covered with different ker, with a business smile. samples of cotton in brown paper parcels; the “Something as interesting to you as eitlier, vast iron house rather than safe in one corner; I hope," says the young minister, returning his the stout negro porter, apron on, coming in and smile, but feeling exceedingly uncertain whethgoing out; the constant ingress of clerks with er his business will be really and truly as inlong, thin books in their breast-pockets, who teresting to his new friend. Church and goshold brief and cabalistic conversation with the pel and preacher seem things so unreal and clerk, who never even nods to them in coming out of place in that busy spot. or recognized their leaving, but writes steadily “Very glad indeed to see you!" says the on through it all; every thing impresses the broker, becoming on the spot the church offiFoung minister with the fact that this office cer, when his visitor has explained who he is. is quite a different place from his quiet apart- And there is a Sabbath change in his tones as ment in the third story of the Seminary, so very he learns of his visitor exactly when he arhigh and dry above the bustling world. And rived, at what hotel he stopped, how he left he enjoys it wonderfully from force of reaction, his uncle — still standing, however, and in a and has a deep respect for the clerk writing rapid manner. away at his desk. From the moment he had “Now," says the cotton broker, at last, “it's read the letter of invitation Hoppleton had just twelve--we dine at four. Here are the dwindled into a much smaller place, and his papers, or look around the city a little. Only uncle's home had seemed rather dull than not. be here, if you please, say at twenty minutes to The instant he had stepped, valise in hand, on four, and I'll show you the way out. Goodthe train, at the end of the stage part of his trip morning!” and he is gone into the maelstrom from Hoppleton, he had caught the contagion that circles past his front-door. of enterprise and energy. He respected the Mr. Merkes would have been greatly agconductor collecting tickets, had a lurking ad- grieved at so curt a disposal of himself. Wall miration for the dirty stoker, considered the en- is conscious of a rising tendency in him of that gineer a hero, rather underrates himself, in fact, kind, but crushes it on the spot in a new adin comparison with all the pushing throng. In miration of the energetic business man. lle strong contrast with the eddy in which he has has a strong disposition himself to plunge into lain, there is a grandeur in the torrent of prac- the current of commerce, would like exceedtical life which exaggerates itself to him by the ingly some pressing call along the wharves and very contrast.

into the warehouses. After years of seclusion And now this tall, thin, hazel-eyed man who there is a romance, a fascination in the rapid comes in with such a swist step must be Mr. footsteps, and quick speech, and talk of dolJacob Langdon. He is rather disappointed. lars, with a sense, too, of being himself quite He had imagined him portly, white-haired, an idler, altogether a child. and with an overflow of gold watch-chain. It is a compliment to Wall, however, that over a white waistcoat-never mind. He rises Mr. Jones, the clerk, comes at this juncture to greet and be greeted, but Mr. Langdon re- from inside his cage, introduces himself, and gards him just at that instant no more than the shakes hands. Mr. Jones has a quill of blue spittoon at his feet.

link behind one ear, a quill of red ink behind “Say twenty thousand two fifty, and I'll do the other, another of black ink in his mouth, it," he says, as he comes rapidly in without le removes this from his lips to say: looking over his shonlder at the weazen, little, “Very glad to make your acquaintance, Sir. dried-up old man who follows upon his foot- You look much younger than I expected to see. steps like his shadow.

I knew your uncle well. Many a time have I “Suppose yon would! No. Twenty thou- heard (there's the gun of the New York steamsand five hundred," replies that individual, in er coming in-hurry down, Peter) him preach. sharp, quick tones.

I don't belong to the First church myself. No; some of us went out from it a year or so ago to “A great deal, only the head of that estabbegin a little enterprise in one of the neglected lishment couldn't refuse, under the circumdistricts. Sunday-school in the upper room of stances. It is not three years ago he came to an engine-house, you know; preaching there at me in a worse fix than this man. I got him in ten and at night. Take a seat, Captain Buff'; | there then. Of course, he is willing to help ready to sail ? Papers all right.” And Mr. any other poor fellow." Jones has to go into his den again to serve the “I must say, Mr. Langdon,” says his comlast arrival. But Mr. Wall has had opportuni-panion, after a pause, “I envy you the opporty to observe that Mr. Jones is not only a clerk, tunity you have of doing such a deed.” but a gentleman.

“Yes; it is more Jones than myself. People He feels reassured, and with a word of adieu, can do any thing with him, and he can do any which Mr. Jones had not the time to observe, thing he pleases with me. But here we are; he sallies forth into the tide without, until he walk in.” finds himself near his hotel.

The young minister looks up and sees that “Bill already settled, luggage carried off," they are in front of a noble mansion with cast says the clerk at the hotel bar in answer to an iron veranda for both stories, handsome plot in inquiry. “On an order from Jacob Langdon," front with tesselated pavement leading from the is the explanation.

gate, bordered with conch shells and stone And so he guesses his way to the office of yases. The master of the house rang at the Langdon, Burke, and Co. again. Arrived there, gate as he entered, and now the front-door he finds a somewhat shabby-looking gentleman opens at his touch. standing at the desk in subdued conversation | “Mistress in ?" he inquires of the whitewith Mr. Jones, who is writing steadily on none aproned colored man that opens the door. the less.

“Just in, Sir,” is the reply. A moment or two after Mr. Langdon comes “Dinner, then, soon as you please," says Mr. in with a rapid step, and a “Ah, Mr. Wall, how Langdon, showing his guest into the parlor and are you by this time?" In obedience, however, himself passing on up stairs to wash and tell his to a “Mr. Langdon, a moment if you please!" wife. from his clerk, Mr. Langdon retires with that Dinner comes. It is all a dinner could be, clerk into the room with the long unpainted cot- and Mr. Wall partakes of it with a feeling of ton tables. The clerk seems to have a good deal ease and enjoyment, as if he had been out on a to say, and his principal only listens and nods. camping excursion during the last few years, As they come out the clerk introduces his em- but had got home again. Mr. Merkes would ployer to the gentleman in somewhat shabby have been estimating the cost, and blaming the clothes, who looks thin and nervous. There extravagance, and adding another room to his is a rapid conversation between these last, of overcramped house from the proceeds of the which the young minister only catches the superb caster before him. His prevailing feelwords, “Wife and children any thing on earthing would have been, “ There is an awful wrong

-great obligations-roll up my sleeves—any somewhere that you have all these things and I thing, Sir, any thing!”

don't. Never mind. You must have a bitter “Ah, well! at your service now, Mr. Wall. sorrow somewhere. Perhaps you have a drunkSuppose we go,” says Mr. Langdon at last, and en son down town, or an idiot child up stairs, or they leave the office, the cotton broker kecping something. Perhaps you'll break yet-it often up a fragmentary conversation with the shabby happens.” And so would Mr. Merkes console gentleman, who accompanies them. In course himself as he murmured steadily on-like a rivof time they arrive at the doorway of a huge ulet worried to death with perpetual pebbles in warehouse-like establishment

its path-against God. “Be so kind as to wait for me a moment," Not so with Wall; he acknowledged to himsays the broker to his guest, and disappears self a keen enjoyinent of the wealth of his host with his other companion inside.

-but it is as if it is all his own. He feels en“Had to take you out of your way," says tirely at home, and therefore seems so. He Mr. Langdon, emerging, as he hurries along has a pleasant word for the children and a hapwith Mr. Wall. “Jones has always something py reply for his host, and, what a woman valof the sort on hand. You'd hardly believe it, ues more than diamonds or cashmeres, a deferthat person who came with us was president ential attention to every syllable of Mrs. Langof a railroad once-not so long ago either.don. And he says very little himself at last, Broken to pieces. Came out here to find busi- and is entirely at his ease. ness. Places ? 'I am willing to do any thing,' “We will be glad if you will make out your he says, “to feed my family: if it's only em-list of hymns for to-morrow this afternoon," ployment for a few days; it is better than none says Mr. Langdon, as he shows his guest up at all.' I had no place for him, so I brought stairs into his room. him here. lle'll have to work hard enough In looking forward to the service the young from dawn till dark. But he'll get his bread.”| minister expected to be quite nervous on that

“Did you find any difficulty in securing him eventful Sabbath morning; he had even hopes a place ?" asks the young minister, as they hur- that it would prove a rainy Sabbath. Yet he ry along, deeply interested.

I was only glad when he awoke the next morn

ing and found the day up before him bright and a sermon is to astonish the audience with some glad. He had anticipated having all the mixed quaint interpretation of Scripture never before and miserable feelings of one about making his dreamed of by mortal man; or to thrill by its appearance in the pulpit as a candidate on ex- sublime flight; or to move and melt by its pahibition, bothered to put on the best manner thos; or to convince by its irresistible reasonthere. But even his fears of being nervous ing; or to delight by its very audacity. The were all forgotten as he dressed and sat down object of this genus of sermon, in a word, is efat the window to his morning devotions. He fect, immediate effect, and the success of the is not there as a candidate for any thing what- same is measured by the degree of its effect. ever; merely there in Heaven's Providence to To this end the sermon is rewritten with a polpreach, as he had been on his visit to Mr. ishing of the marble worthy of Isocrates, who Merkes. All he aims at is simply to preach. spent thirty-six years of steady rewriting upon All he prays for is that he may do this to the his one oration. It is such a venture that no profit of those that may hear, few or many. experienced minister launches himself from his John's opinion at the family council had been pulpit cushion upon a splendid discourse unless as a soft, cool hand laid upon a fevered brow. he be very certain that the size of his congreHe felt quietly ready for the morning service gation, the state of the weather, and his own even by breakfast. So much so that, with his exact measure of health and mood will warrant sermon safely in his head and heart instead of the attempt. Even then it is a risk. A bird his breast-pocket, he requested to accompany lying in at the church window, a sudden showMr. Langdon to the Sabbath-school. There er or storm coming up, a dog yelping in the was a simple nature in the young minister, a aisle, a child crying in a pew, will ruin the perfect ease of manner, that would have put success of the most effective of this style of Mr. Langdon out a little. “Going to preach sermon. in our pulpit, and so cool about it!” he would Now Mr. Wall, too, had more than one splenhave thought, with some displeasure at his did discourse among his sermons. They were young guest, if that guest had not seemed so the gems of his collection to him when he first entirely yet quietly at home. Was it intellect arrived in Hoppleton. Somehow he had disand culture beginning to weigh its own against trusted them since. And it is not a splendid wealth? Or was it, rather, simple piety get- discourse he now has determined to preach. It ting the mastery of circumstances, as it inher- is one of the other genus of sermons, the faithently will, though those circumstances towered ful exposition of a text; poetry, vivid illustraat first like Alps against it? Not that he is in tion, rhetoric, novelty, sublimity, pathos, logic, the least superior to any body else. Only he audacity, all Corinthianism of the sort left out, has, somehow, become aware of all the much or breaking their way in by sheer force, and the that is wrong in him, and has for the moment discourse depending upon its plain, direct meangot his heel upon that worse self!

ing for its effect. And the Sabbath-school prepared him to The sumptuous church holds a still more preach. He is beginning of late to find a deal sumptuous congregation; the organ peals in of interest in the clear eyes of little children, a full tone; the choir have not one common-megrace in the motion of their hands and a wis- tre hymn to drag them down to the people in dom in their prattle he never remarked before. the pews below, and sing with free voices skyHis attention has been drawn toward them by ward. The young preacher preaches his serwhat he has heard of Mr. Merkes's entire neg- mon without let or hindrance, informing the lect of them, and his association with John has hearers, to the best of his ability and with all in some mysterious way ripened his heart to his heart, of the meaning of God their Saviour ward the young as well as toward every thing in the text. A prayer, a hymn, the benedicelse. They wish him to deliver an address to tion, and this candidate for the vacant pulpit the children; but he pleasantly declines, and has settled his fate as far as that church is contalks to the children instead, imparting to them cerned forever. all the profit and twenty times the pleasure during the ten minutes he holds their bright eyes in his than during the formal delivery of

EUSTACIE'S STORY. an hour's set address. And then their singing! TULIETTE came down the garden with that too! Sweeter music this world knows not of e grand air of hers as if the world were made than the voices of children.

for Juliette. She held a letter in one hand, bearWhen he at last finds himself in the pulpit- ing a bold superscription, and she paused just itself almost as large as Mr. Merkes's church, before Eustacie, who was filling Louis's apron he is glad that he had selected for the occasion with the sweet June roses. the sermon he had. Every minister prepares “For me ?” asked Eustacie, putting out her two sorts of sermons. One kind is of the genus hand, and blushing up like any rose herself ; commonly known as “a splendid discourse." but a look on Juliette's face caused her to falThis is a sermon based on some striking text, ter and draw back. filled with apt quotations from the poets, adorn- “Give us joy," said this one then, without ed with vivid illustrations, beautified with rhe- appearing to notice Eustacie's motion. “Cyril torical curves and flourishes. The aim of such is going to marry; but I must away to grand

Vol. XXXVIII.—No. 223. -8

mamma's with the news;" and she passed out wish you the joy which she forgot to wish Cythe garden gate.

| ril." And my lady moved away with a heart Eustacie had not wished them joy; she stood, that burned and leaped in her bosom, and eyes with startled eyes, quite motionless, growing like javelins, that would have slain Eustacie, if paler and paler with every breath.

eyes could slay, “ There's more roses," said Louis, in his While Miss Juliette imagined she was orderchildish prattle. Can't you reach 'em? Mr. ing affairs after her own mind, Fate had quietly Trenholm can."

assumed the dictatorship, and arranged for a “We will see," said that gentleman, picking somewhat different result than that which she up the scissors Eustacie had let fall; then, as had anticipated. if the action recalled her:

Each one said to her neighbor, “Did you “Oh no, Mr. Trenholm, you will get thorned know what a fine thing Mrs. Thornton's gorto death: Miss Juliette didn't see you, I think," erness has done for herself?" in her own manner.

“Secured Mr. Trenholm, eh?” “One may as well die by the sword as the “These governesses are so designing !" famine,” in answer to her first sentence. “By- "Well, I hope it will turn out well,” which, the-way, Miss Eustacie, I thought that Cyril—” considering the previous remarks, was as much

“Cyril is going to marry," repeating Juli-as to say she should be disappointed if it did. ette's words.

“When will they be married ?" “Where is he going?" asked Louis. “Can't "Oh, immediately of course; a bird in the I go too ?"

hand, you know," and they nodded an under“Some day, perhaps," said Trenholm, laugh- standing to each other, and swept apart. ing. “See, there is your mother looking for Poor Eustacie, leaning over the balcony at you, Louis. Go and ask her, and take these Mrs. Oxford's, waiting for Louis, heard someroses."

thing of this, and it made her exceedingly un“ Miss Eustacie," he began again, “ you have comfortable. Was she designing ? She could perhaps wondered why I come here so often; hardly decide. It is true that she was sorry will you let me tell you ?”

for Trenholm; but then she was not sorry for “I am attentive," said Eustacie, quietly. "I Juliette, at least not yet; perhaps she would be thought—"

when she came to love him very much-if that “It is because I hoped you would see how ever happened; but she had designed nothing much you were to me--the mere sight, the in- concerning him, except to do her best as his different touch of your fingers, the everyday wife; she had never tried to attract him; he had greetings, in the hope that you might grow come to her of his own accord, and so had Cyril ; accustomed to me; that so when I said, I the difference was that this one had left her, love you,' as I say to-day, you would not find while the other stepped into the breach, and a yourself amazed.'

few tears fell to illustrate the case. Was it de“But I do find myself amazed, Mr. Tren- signing in a harmless, friendless governess, with holm.”

only a pittance in the bank, to accept a golden “So much the worse for me, since in that gift from fortune, because— because - in truth case you have not thought of me as a lover, she found it very hard to say why she had acand can give me nothing in return."

cepted it. Perhaps it was merely because it He spoke so sadly, so half-interrogatively, as had come in her path, and she wanted the courif he were loth to be thus assured, but had felt age to turn her back upon it; perhaps because it must be so all along, that Eustacie looked up a great deal of love on one side only was better at him with returning color, and put out her than none any where had a value for her; perhand :

haps because struggling up from a great blow, “Indeed, indeed, I can give you much—"and she was prone to catch at any support and comthere hesitated.

fort. Still leaning there with her sad, perplexed “But you can not love me?" he said. face framed with the climbing roses that show

“I-I do not know. I had not thought of ered her with perfumed leaves at every rough it. If you love me,”

breeze, she suffered what all must suffer who If I love you!"

snatch at fortune from mere weariness rather “If you love me,they say it makes all the than wait till events shall resolve themselves difference in the world—I don't know-I might into the harmony that is sure to result sooner try, if you would like to have me.”

or later, here or there. Some one passing in Thus, half an hour later, Juliette found them the square below paused to gaze up at her and still lingering in the neighborhood of the rose- divine her thoughts, it may be. But she did not bushes.

heed him. She was looking back through the “Oh, Mr. Trenholm, are you there?" she long vista of days, each one of which had been said. “When did you arrive ?"

lighted by looks of love and words “I was here when you passed down with the

"A thought too tender news about Cyril. I thank vou for it; it gave me impetus to follow his example. Eustacie

For the commonplaces spoken;" has consented to let me love her."

through the days she had once believed would “Indeed! That is very gracions of her. I last forever; and suddenly a cloud had arisen; the staff she leaned upon had fallen. What was No more strife, love coming unsought, departing this she clung to now? Would it last? Would never; no more dreary lessons, no more disany thing last ?

tracted endeavors to do rightly and forever goThe twilight was dropping down, the old town ing wrong. But while thinking thus, she was growing hushed under the evening sky, the wind already there, separated from him only by one turning east; it was time they were at home. broad reach, across which their hands failed to She called to Louis. Some one below in the meet. street answered with a sweet old air which Cyril “How are you going to contrive, Eustacie ?" had once sung to her sitting under the white he asked, reassured by her presence. “Make lilac-trees, with these words, half reproach, half haste; my shoes are full of water; I shall catch consolation :

my death o' cold.”

She glanced down at his feet, where, true "If in any spring-sweet weather Suddenly should come to you

enough, the water crept ever higher and highHappiness and fear together,

er; it would float him off soon; she could not Bid them both adieu.

leave him so, yet staying did no service. A "If in any garden blowing,

pleasure-boat skimmed past in the distance; Summer suns should bring to you

she shrieked for help, but the wind blew her Roses, lines, for the sowing,

voice down her throat; she tore off her crimAnd perhaps a little rue;

son scarf, and waved it for a signal, but they " Will the last annul the sweetness

made no answering sign; only across the broodor the roses rare and red ? Blind you to the white completeness

ing expanse came a trickle of laughter, a snatch of the lilies in their bed?

of song: “Every day shall have its sun, love;

"Swistly we glide toward the happy shore, Every night its smiling star :

Feather the oar, feather the oar;
Though thick clouds obscure the one, love,

Lightly we rock on the swelling tide,
And the other smiles afar."

Each other beside, each other beside.

Oh, what so sweet when suns have set, The tune recalled her wandering thoughts.

When those who long and love have met, All this time she was forgetting Louis. He had To fly and follow the bending shore asked her to wait while he went round the cor

And feather the oar, and feather the oar?" ner to buy a toy canoe, and he had not yet re-1. Oh, how could they sing, and she in mortal turned. She was growing tired of waiting, the agony? Her silken scarf was long and stout; air was chilly-it made her shiver. In raising she threw one end across the gulf to Louis. herself she chanced to look toward the shore, " Tie it round your waist, Louis," she said ; where the tide was rolling in in angry undula- “ tie it in that hard knot Cyril taught you ; tions; then naturally her eyes found out the line then take firm hold, and I will pull you across of rocks along which at ebb-tide they often to me." skipped far out on the shining flats, in search “But I'm afraid, Eustacie." of strange shells, jelly-fishes for Louis's muscum, “Don't think of fear; it is necessary. Think and beautiful sea-mosses; the very rocks where of mamma and Juliette, and—and Cyril. Think she and Cyril had sat by hours sunning them- you are doing it for them." selves when the treacherous tide was out, the “And you and Mr. Trenholm?" tide which covered them at flood and left no! “Yes, dear.” hint. But just now there was something "Well, I am ready. Oh, but the water is strange in their appearance. The water had cold, Eustacie, and dark, so dark-if I hadn't risen about them more than half-way; but what come out here! Would you say a little prayer was it disturbed the outline of the farther point? first ?" What was it that wavered and reached toward "I think I would." shore? At first she watched it curiously, think-! “Now, Tacie-oh, quick !" But, instead of ing it but a sea-bird flapping its wings in defi- pulling him toward hier, his foot caught in the ance of the gathering gale; wondering how it crevice of a rock, and the weight of his body must seem to be out there all alone in the struggling at the end of the scarf caused Eustacie growing night amidst the pitiless waters; then, to lose her balance and plunge into the terrible presently, she shook from head to foot with crystal darkness that foamed below. The cold, vague terror; a thousand pangs thrilled along cruel waters held her in a grasp of steel; shut her pulses. “It is Louis !” she cried, and out the tender twilight shadows dropping down went bounding toward him. It was indeed upon the sea, the murmur of oar in row-lock, Louis, who, sailing his canoe from the point, the echo of happy - hearted choristers. Oh, had been cut off by a strip of water too broad life! that had looked so barren but an hour ago for his little feet to cross, too deep to ford. -how full and jocund and inviting it now apThere was no one in sight, no one but herself peared, beckoning to her across a little span, to hear his terrified cry.

with infinite possibilities folded in the long “Save me, Eustacie! Save me!"

years, like the radiant, perfumed flower hidden, She looked where the slender arms were undreamed of, in the tiny seed. Was it only stretched to her appealingly - how like the through dying that she should come to know voice was to Cyril's! And what if she should its worth, its beauty, its sweetness? And this slip herself? What then? Why, after that, rest. I was death? This slackening pulse, this sink

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