AGRICULTURE AND HORTICULTURE, 
bring restoratives. Bearing them in her hand, 
she entered the room where lay the wonnded 
man, and for the first time looked fall in hiB face. 
He was p ile as a corpse, his eyes closed, and his 
dark hair brushed back from his broad temples. 
They thought it was the eight of blood that made 
her start back and lean against the wall for sup¬ 
port; I thought bo, too, for I was not then an 
adept at reading the human face, but when they 
offered to take the salts from her hand, she mo¬ 
tioned them back, imperiously, and gazed with 
clenched hands and strained eyes upon the 
motionless form, as though gazing at the wreck 
of her last earthly hope. The old lovers had 
met,—the cruelly separated, the hearts that could 
not forget! ‘Is he dead?’ she asked, with an 
imploring look around the room. ‘Is be—is be 
dead! 0, Hkmiy, would to God we had never 
met again!’ There were no tears, the agony was 
too sudden and too deep. 
“When the man’s eyes slowly opened, for b 
moment their gaze met. I Btood at the foot of 
the bed, looking from one to the other, endeavor- 
g emotions which 
to gaze on one who had lost nothing of beantv, 
purity, and innocence — gaze for a moment with 
involuntary admiration, to be followed by a fiercer 
hate and satanic desire to drag all Heaven to its 
own level,— so Aunt Hester gazed for a moment 
abashed, and then her grey eyes blazed With a fire 
that made me tremble. 
t ^one of your staring at me with yonr sanc¬ 
timonious face,’ sbe growled through her teeth; 
‘you never deceived me with it I’ve heard tell 
of wolves in sheep’s clothing, and a nice, pretty 
lamb you’d like to pass for, wouldn’t you?’ 
“• Hester,’ said mother firmly, ‘I would like 
to know who has dared to make me a prisoner in 
my own house?’ 
" ‘Vour own house, eb! I guess you’ll find 
whose mistress of this house. This house belongs 
to ChaBlks Pride, and I am Hester I’kidk, com¬ 
missioned to look after bis nice little wife, in hie 
absence. A model wife, to be sure, to bring men 
with broken bones home, to stay with her, in her 
husband’s absence. Or a rues Pride shall he ar of 
this, as sure as my name is Hester* he shall hear 
of your rambles, nobody knows where; and, in the 
meantime, you 1 )] find I bold the keys,’ giving 
them a shake in her pocket • I guess you’ll find 
whose mistress and who ain’t!’ 
“Mother turned deathly pale, and her eyes 
filled with tears. ‘ Hester yon cannot—’ 
“‘Yes, lean; J’ni just the stuff to do it. and 
what’s more, I will do it, too! None of your 
ringing that, bell, for it won’t do any good,—just 
compose yourself ma’am—you’ll not get auv more 
rambles out in the woods'for one while, I’ll as¬ 
sn re von ' 
^I'ALIUAU’g PREPARED GLCEII 
SPALDINCS PREPARED CLUE! 
SFALDIN G’S PREPARED GLUE! 
BV MRS. L. H. B1O0UJUTET, 
Tiikt leave no sting in the heart of Memory, no stain 
on the wing of Time.— Hon. M. P. Wilder. 
Brown Cekbs, on day, with Pomona was meeting 
’Neath Autumn’s spirited smile; 
So giving each other a sisterly greeting, 
They sat down to gorsip awhile. » 
“ I hope you're quite well, dear, this elegant weather, 
How charming the country,” they said, 
“ And how do you prosper,” both speaking together, 
“ With regard to your business and trade? 
“ Loot where the rude thorn bush and bramble were 
springing, 
With fruitage the npple tree bends, 
The scythe of the mower at sunrise is swinging, 
And the song of the reaper ascends. 
“ Let us Walk hand in hand, for no obstacle caring, 
Till vines o'er the mountains shall grow; 
Its suit of green velvet, the brown heath be wearing, 
And deserts witli plenty o’erUow. 
“ The gold In its mine, with excitement and wonder, 
May summon an emigrant hand, 
And the chariot of Mars trample on in its thunder, 
But we're the true strength of the land. 
“ For us no lorn wife, in her cottage, is grieving; 
Earth welcomes us both in her prime, 
No sting In the bosom of Memory we're leaving, 
No stain on the pinion of Time." 
be Without It. It is always re. H ,]_ v and up to the etlCkillg 
point, there ts no longer a necessity for limning chairs, 
splintered veneers, headless dolls, mill broken cradles. It 
ib jUfit the* iirtielo for ahcJ), find otlior oriittrnooUU 
work, so popular with ladies of refinement and taste. 
This admirable preparation is used cold, being ebetnicnllv 
held in solution, and |ios»i? 9 ^ngall the valuable qualities of 
-st cabin* 1-tnakers’ (Hue. It may be used in the place 
of ordinary mucilage, being vastly more adhesive. 
“USEFUL IN EVERY HOUSE.” 
N. B.—A Brush accompanies each bottle. Price, 25 cents. 
Wholesale Depot, No. SO Platt tit. New York. 
Address IIENRY C. W’ALDING Jk CO., 
Box No. 3,Clio, New York. 
Put up for Dealers in cases containing four, eight, and 
twelve dozen a beautiful Lithograph Show-card accom¬ 
panying each package. 
IT* A single bottle of SPALDING'S PREPARED GLUE 
will save ten times it*cost annually to every licmsehold._t£j 
Sold by all prominent Stationer-, Druggists, Hardware 
and Furniture Dealers, Grocers, and Fancy Stores. 
Country merchants should make a note of SPALDING'S 
PREPARED GLUE, when making up their list It will 
staudany climate. 
ing to read the conflietin, 
became visible in the face of the man, and the 
gentle woman bending over him. In him it was, 
atfirst, a pleasant recognition, as though wakening 
from a dream, then a start of surprise, succeeded 
by something which was inexplicable to me. 
‘Mary Wai.ters,’ ho gently murmured,‘thank 
God, Mary, dear Mary.’ This brought a look 
of acute pain across her features,—she remem¬ 
bered she was no longer Mary Walters, but a 
wife and mother; and though the heart never 
grows old, it has with added years, added memo¬ 
ries which bind its fountains with chains of ice. 
Sbe gently withdrew the hand he had taken, aud 
asked, in a constrained voice, ‘Are you much 
hurt? 1 feared the horse had killed you!’ ‘No, 
no, T think not, but do not leave me now—dear 
Mary!* ‘Not Mary Walters, * she said, with 
gentle dignity, ‘but Mrs. Charles Pride. You 
forget;’ nod Mien, as if to ease the pain she had 
inflicted, added, ‘1 thank God you are now better, 
and the surgeon will soon be here!’ 
“ She turned away, but ere she passed out of the 
room she looked back, and again their gaze met. 
That look, I shall never forget. The raun turned 
from it with a groan, and she, pale as a shadow, 
glided up to her own chamber. I knew some grief 
SPALDING ’8 PIMH’.UtEI) GLUE! 
USEFUL IN EVERY HOUSE. 
SPALDING'S PREPARED GLUE, 
SOLD BY STATIONERS. 
SPALDING'S PREPARED GLUE, 
SOLD BY DRUGGISTS. 
SPALDING’S PREPARED GLUE, 
SOLD BY HARDWARE DEALERS. 
SPALDING'S PREPARED GLUE, 
SOLD BY HOUSE-FURNISHING STORES. 
SPALDING’S PREPARED GLUE, 
SOLD BY FURNITURE DEALERS. 
SPALDING’S PREPARED GLUE, 
SOLD DY FANCY-GOODS DEALERS. 
SPALDING'S PREPARED GLUE, 
SOLD B V GROCERS. 
SPALDING'S PREPARED GLUE, 
SOLD BY COUNTRY MERCHANTS GENERALLY. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorlter.] 
he has left untouched, which 'is the freshness and 
vigor of your mind, and you have stolen from 
him Btores of wisdom and experience, worth 
more than all you have lost. What a history 
must be a life of three-score years and ten, if 
carefully written out 
“Ah!” replied the old lady, with a sigh, “life, 
whether it be long or short, is but a chain of 
yesterdays extending backward, and the longer 
the chain, the heavier and more galling to the 
wearer. True, I am old now. I have moved in 
Manufactured by 
HENRY C. SPALDING &. CO., 
SO Phut-SL, New York 
Address Post-Office, Box No. 3,600. 
and I wept with her.” 
The old woman was weeping now, weeping as 
bitterly as though time had not worn wrinkles in 
her brow, since the cause of her grief. As she 
wept silently, I could not but think of the many 
bitter experiences of this life, — particularly of 
the wrongs of my sisterhood, wrongs suffered 
over and over, ever since this world became the 
abode of sin,— suffered in silence; the canker in 
the core, concealed until it eat out life, or else, 
made desperate by wrongs iinredrcssed, daring a 
worse fate,— rushing madly down into crime and 
degradation. Man is woman’s natural protector; 
that is, man as Coo made birn is, yet some there 
arc, Who stand u(* erect in the image Of their 
Maker, fur whom there will be a fearful reckon¬ 
ing, bye-and-bye. < 
" Yes, there will be a fearful reckoning byo-nnd- 
hye,’’echoed the old lady, and I wondered if 1 had 
thought, aloud. “A fearful reckoning,” she re¬ 
peated,—“lie who broke the strongest and purest 
ties of affection to gratify bis pride and stub¬ 
bornness, and caused a' blight to fall upon 
his child, as mildew blights a rose bud in its 
first sweetness, so that it withers upon its stein 
and dies, that man, if he prospers here, will 
have a fearful hereafter; but, mark my word, 
lie seldom prospers here. My grandfather lived 
til be poor and destitute, lived to be turned 
from a son's door, to wander and die in the street, 
while the man he spurned, because he was poor, 
rose rapidly to position and wealth. But my 
mother,—you wish to hear about jny mother. 1 
will tell you, though it fires my blood even now, 
old as 1 am. to think of the indignities she sut' 
fered, without a murmur. Divine grace alone 
sustained her in it,—she looked away from this 
world to a heavenly, for all her stay in trials and 
afflictions, and, like her pattern, she could pray, 
even in the certainty of blighted hopes and pre¬ 
mature death,—‘Father, forgive them, for they 
Annexed is an Alphabetical List of Articles which, if 
damaaed, may he restored to their original strength and 
usL'iuJiiefefl by 
SPALDING’S PREPARED GLUE. 
A Mends ACCOUNT BOOKS. A 
B ...Mends BUREAUS..I.H 
C_Mends CRADLES. C 
D . ..Mends 1M ll.IX i> 
B. . Mends KTAGEIIES.E 
F . Mends FANS. p 
G....Mends GUITARS... a 
11.. ..Meads HARPS."H 
1 ... Mend* IN LAID WORK. . I 
.1_Mends J AKS ..... r 
K-Moods KNOBS . R 
1.M.-nds LEATHER-WORK. i, 
M....Mends MIRROR-FRAMES. M 
N_Mends NEW El. POSTS. M 
O . . .Mends OTTOMANS. O 
P. . . MotkIk PI A NO-FORTES. p 
Q Mevrtpguj.LT-FRAM.KS ..'I.Q 
K.. .Mends IH•(.’KING-HORSES_ it 
5 _Mends SOFAS.... § 
T.... Mends TABLES . T 
U MemO. UMRRELLA-STICKS...U 
V... Mends VASES. V 
W Meivlu WORK-BOXES ' .\y 
X . Mends XYI.OGKAPHIC WORK. X 
Y....Mends YARDSTICKS. Y 
Z—Mends ZEPHYR WOOD*WORK.......Z 
conclusion, SPALDINGS PREPARED GLUE is 
useful In Libraries and Schools. 
1_S_Mends SOFAS. S 1 
2 — p— .Mends pitchers . 2 
3— A. ..Mends ACCORD EON'S . A 3 
4 — I-Mendw I KTTKK-SE \I ING i/"‘ 4 
6 -O....Mends DAGUERREOTYPE CASES.'V...D .5 
b — I Monde IMAGES. I 6 
7.. . N....Mends NEW BREAKAGES...."""""N"" 7 
8 -tr-Monde GUN-STOCKS. G 8 
9 ...S....Mentis SCHOOL-BOOKS. "s’" 9 
10--.p—Mends PARASOLS. P 10 
M--S - Mends Kl I.KKS."I" jC’.'ll 
-. .E—.Mendh ELECTRICAL MACHINES.E....12 
13. ...I- Me tide PAPKR-H A NGLNGS...P.... 13 
14.. ..A—Mends ARM-CHAIRS. A 14 
15—R—Month- RICKETY FURNITURE. K.. H 5 
lb—k... -Mends ERASER HANDLES..K....16 
1/-0-Meude DKSk.S. D 17 
18.. ..G....Mend* GLOBES. .G '"l 8 
19—L—Monde LOOSEN ED LEAVES..:..."l”"pj 
20.. ..1 Mem e t PHOESTKRED FURNITURE.-U ....20 
SI ..E—Mend* EGG HEATERS. E 21 
22.Mend* A<'ORN-WOHK . '.22 
23—..Mend* CHESS-BOARDS..23 
24 ....Mends IT DOLES .. . . 24 
25 ..Mends SHELL-WORK-. ‘..I. ..25 
26 ..Mend* FILLET WORK. 26 
27 .Jleud.* HOBBY-HORSES •'] 
28--. .Mends KAJ.K1DESCOPES .'".[.""""""i "28 
29. Mentis MONEY-BOXES. ->9 
3d-.Mend- PICTl RE-FRAMES.'.""""""'."‘"'ao 
31. .Mends .SECRET AWES. 31 
32 .Mends VENEERING.. . . 32 
33 .Mends SCHOOL FURNITURE.-III — '.ISS 
M .Mends PAPIER-MACHE. 34 
35.Mend* WARDROBES. ' "35 
«!.Mends PARIAN MARBLE. 36 
37 .Mends CRIBS.. 37 
38 . .Monde BABY-JUMPERS...M".38 
39 .Mends IVORY-WORK. 39 
1“.Mt-nds MATCH-SAFES. 40 
O..Mends PICTURES. 41 
12 .Mends OUU.L-WHEELS...'.::.42 
13 . .Mends TOWEi -RACKS. '43 
H.Mends W AS H-STANDS. Y...'......44 
move,—horror deprived me of motion. I could 
only gaze at her and drink in the look of utter 
anguish that followed him as he passed out, and 
then as though her life had departed with him, 
her eye-lids drooped and she fell senseless to the 
floor. I uttered an involuntary shriek, which 
quickly summoned tho household, and they took 
up the Houseless form and laid it on the bed.— 
Blood was streaming from her month and nostrils, 
and all efforts made by the frightened servants to 
quench the flow, were unavailing. Father under¬ 
took the tusk with trembling eagerness, and grew 
haggard at the fruitless effort, while Aunt Hester 
chafed her cold hands with an energy that seemed 
the effort of awakening pangs of remorse. When 
the physician came, the perturbed servants and 
weeping children were ordered out of the room, 
and we stole off to our beds; but 0, what a uigbt 
was that to me! 
“ I listened with intense eagerness for every 
sound, wept, and prayed, and watched, and would 
venture sometimes ball-way to the door, deter¬ 
mined to know if she yet lived, but fear of my 
father drove me back to bed again, and at last, 
worn out with excitement, I fell asleep. I 
dreamed my mother came to me, looking, 0, how 
beautiful and happy,■vfraathed with flowers,bright 
as rainbow hues, and stooping over me for a kiss, 
murmured a M ayer, aud was gone. 1 called after 
her, imploringly, but she only pointed up, up to¬ 
wards the pearl-like clouds, and I thought, as I 
gazed, the clouds resolved into shape, and each one 
was a bright-winged seraph, looking down at me, 
and shedding a heavenly radiance on my soul_ 
It whs nothing but a dream, but it has been the 
source of great satisfaction to me all my days. I 
But to one like you, who goes about doing 
good,—ministering to the sick and relieving the 
necessities of the poor,— there must he some 
scenes in life to which you can look back with 
satisfaction. ] know that there are many hearts 
that bless yon. 
“Let them rather bless Con,” said she. “If 
freely I have given, still more freely have I re¬ 
ceived; and when I look closely at the motives 
which prompted many deeds the world called 
generous, I sec but little wherein to glory. My 
child,” she continued, with a sudden lighting up 
of her eyes, “ these winter evenings are long and 
dull, aud when you find an unoccupied one 
among yonr gay companions, recollect there is 
an empty chair by Aunt Fanny’s fireside, and I 
will relate to you some incidents in my past life 
which may not he uninteresting. If yon can 
gather from them any instruction, which will be 
of service to you when you go out to mingle in 
the world's strife, or jf it prove merely a pleasant, 
passing away of time, your Aunt Fanny will he 
amply rewarded for rakin 
ota Euiuie,—uuwn uirougu me park, and over a 
beautiful litUe stream, skirted with flowers and 
willows, and out among the rocks which bordered 
the water’s edge. 
“\ r ou may think it strange that 1 recollect so 
minutely all these incidents, but every scene of 
that eventful day was daguerreotyped on my 
memory, and is now as fresh and vivid as the one 
before my eyes. The sky waB never so blue,_ 
the wild waters were but another sky, with a 
now and then 
n 
across 
spires 
between the 
green foliage of the trees on the one side, and 
on tho other a rugged promontory lifted up a 
dark, dense growth of pines, while immediately 
in front was “Elfin’s drove,” with its park and 
fountains. The tide was out, and we wandered 
down the beach, amusing ourselves with shells, 
when suddenly a party of gentlemen and ladies 
on horseback galloped around a jutting point of 
rock toward us. The}' seemed in high spirits, 
lino riders, and riding spirited animals. As they 
heaving, undulating motion, 
broken into a flash of foam which seemed but 
reproduction of the pearl-like mist winged 
the blue above. We could see the church 
of the town of A- glisteniu 
out the ashes from 
smouldering heaps of memories, even though 
those memories scorch afresh tho ngly wounds 
they inflicted.” 
I shall draw upon your kindness often, I re¬ 
plied, and would fain begin to-night See, it is 
only seven,—the wind bowls outside,—the fire 
burns brightly within.—Aunt Fanny sits in her 
arm-chair, and I upon an ottoman at her feet 
Why not begin to-night? 
She smiled and leaned her head thoughtfully 
upon her hand for a moment, and then said, “I 
will to-night tell you something of my mother,— 
my sainted mother,—early lost yet dearly loved. 
It carries me back to my childhood, and the 
house where I was born, which was a country 
Beat near the town of A-, in the old Bay State. 
The grounds around this house were laid out 
with taste, and comprised gardens, walks and 
arbors, fountains, long shady avenues, and a 
magnificent park of native forest trees, which 
spread oft' far to the right Last year I visited 
this old home, and it was nothing but a ruin. 
Old Time has made worse havoc with those 
groves and gardens, and with the house itself,— 
for it was a complete desolation,—than with the 
once prosperous family who dwelt there, and n*ve 
started from this blissful dream to feel the blind¬ 
ing sunshine in my eyes, as it streamed through 
the crimson curtains, full in my face, and slowly 
the dream faded, crowded out by the bitter reali¬ 
ties with which i was surrounded. I hastily 
dressed myself and entered mother’s room, with a 
half defined dread. The white curtains were 
drawn closely around the bed, and a strange lady, 
I never recollected having seen before, sat by tile 
window. She greeted me affectionately, and told 
me she was my aunt, who had come a long way to 
see my mother. Then she took me gently by the 
hand aud drew aside the curtains that 1 might 
look on my mother, but there, instead, lay a pale 
and ghastly corpse. It was not mother,' for her 
eyes were sealed, her voice silent, her hand mo¬ 
tionless, and no tears or importunities could 
arouse her. Do you wonder that I was over¬ 
whelmed with grief? I had lost the only friend 
God had then given me! Words are imperfect 
avenues to convey an impression of such dessola- 
tion, and yet”—the old lady paused and looked 
at me with a saintly smile lighting up her face, 
“yet, those bright winged seraphs, and that mur¬ 
mured prayer brought me strange consolation 
which followed me for years, and follows me 
now,” sbe. added, as she glanced out the window 
at a swift-winged cloud, as it dipped the surface 
of the moon. She gazed up at the sky, and I 
listened for the ticking of the clock o'ver the 
mantle, and the beating of my own heart, until the 
cloud shut out the moon aud spread a shadow 
over forest and meadow, then she continued, 
slowly, “ There was a shady little covert down in 
the wood, where a giant oak spread its branches, 
and around which a grape vine twined and bung 
its yearly clusters. Mother said she wished no 
sweeter resting place, nor prouder monument 
than the blue forget-me-nots that yearly lift there 
their cups to catch the dew and sunshine, but she 
was borne away to tbe cemetry at A-, buried 
with the pomp becoming a rich man’s wife, in the 
family vault, and a marble shaft rises high to 
blazon to the world that underneath, the Pride 
family are food for worms. I 
•Mends BEDSTEADS... 
,Mends DRUMS . .. . 
• Mends CHESSMEN... 
Mends R A LId KT-BOX ES 
■Mfentlt HERBARIUMS. 
Menfl* DAUKGAMMi A-BOARDS 
Mends WAND-BOXES 
Mends black-boards....:::::: 
.Mends Bass VIOLS. . 
Mend* HfLLfARD-TABLES.. 
ful manner. One of the gentlemen threw him¬ 
self from his horse, and seized the frightened 
animal by the bit, but too late, for the lady was 
unseated, thrown to the ground, and the horse 
becoming more furious, threw down the man and 
trampled him under foot, then bounded away aud 
was uut of sight in a moment. All this was done 
in less time than I could tell it But a moment 
before they were laughing in high glee, full of 
life andrgayety, their riding habits glistening in 
the sunshine, aud their plumes nodding before 
the sea breeze coming inland with the tide._ 
now, two of them were stricken as with a holt 
from heaven. 
“They picked up the lady and found she was 
only 6tunned, but the man had a bad wonud in 
his side and his arm broken. He was bleeding 
profusely, and soon fainted from loss of blood. 
One galloped away after a surgeon, and others 
lifted the unconscious man, and bore him rapidly 
up the path to our home. Mother was so shocked 
that she bnd stood motionless during this scene, 
but recovering herself, joined the ladies, aud 
proffered them the hospitalities of her own honse. 
After seeing the frightened lady comfortably 
placed on a sofa, and giving directions that the 
man should be laid upon a bed, she hastened to 
-Mends HIJ.LIARD-t'UES. 
.Mend* BIRD-CAGES. 
.Memla BROOMSTICKS. 
.Mend* BOOK-CASKS 
Mends Boor-i RIMl-a''..V...'.' 
Memi* brush-handles.1 
-Mends BRUSHES . 
■ Mends CABINETS..V 
.Mend* CHURNS. 
•Mends CLOCK-CASKS. 
•Mends CRUTCHES. 
.Mends CUPBOARDS. 
.Mend* CURIA INS j. 
•Mends CASINGS. 
.Mends CADDIES. 
Mends CAMERAS.. . 
• Mends CHAIRS. 
Mends CHARTS. 
.Mends CLOTHES FRAMES ...""I" 
.Mends CARD-CASES. 
.Mend* CHESTS.. 
.Mends DIARIES... . 
.Mend* WORK-STANDS 
.Mends DRAUGHT-BOARDS. 
.McdAb DISHES. 
•Mends DJVaNS . .. 
Mends DICE-BOXES:. 
•Mends DOORS. . 
.Mend* DOMINOES . 
■ Mend* FIREBOaRDS.. 
.Mends FLUTES 
■ Mends BAJ.I CSTERS. 
Mends GLASSWARE.. 
Mends HANDLES 
•Mends GUTTARERCliAAVARE':::::: 
Mends KITES .. 
Mend* TORS.. . 
Mcndg ORGANS?". 
Mends MODBLS. 
Mend* SEWING-MACHINE STANDS 
■Mends PANELS. 
.Mends PASTEBOARD WORKS. 
• Mends PATTERN'S. 
.Mends SIDEBOARDS.. 
.Mends WOODEN-WARE. 
■Mends WILLOW-WARE. 
| ’ " •* * uiiivtVQl LV J C* 
fleet how her conduct would be misrepresented to 
tbe world, and to the man she called, husband.— 
She knew she had not wronged him. even in tho't, 
for he knew, when he led her to the alter, that she 
was there only in obedience to her father's com¬ 
mand. She had told him that her heart was not 
her own, but if be insisted on the sacrifice, she 
would perform her duty, and he need not expect 
nothing more. She had performed her duty, 
Heaven knew how well, through years and years,— 
long years to her,— but had never learned to love 
a man who conld not even command her respect 
“We looked from the window and saw the 
wounded man borne on a litter to tbe gardener's 
house, at a little distance beyond the garden, and 
presently heard the clanking of horses’ hoofs, and 
then all was silent. This silence was soon broken 
by footsteps in the hall, a key turned in the lock, 
the door, opened aud Aunt Hester’s sallow face 
and round eyes portruded through the opening, 
immediately followed by her lank person. She 
turned the key in the lock again, and confronted 
my mother. Mother rose with composed dignity. 
There was an unusual flush on her cheek, and 
brightness in her eye, but her features were calm 
and self-possessed. ’ She looked in tbe eyes of the 
intruder, and awaited her pleasure to speak. I do 
not wonder that there was an awkward silence, for 
that scene has always haunted my imagination as 
an angel of light, being confronted by a power of 
darkness. As a fallen angel might be supposed 
