Volume I Part 85 (2/2)

Dearest mamma ? wont you speak to me?'

”The lady paused, but then calmly said ?

Yes, Lucy ? the sea was his dying bed!

And now, whenever I hear the blast, I think again of that storm long past.

” 'The winds' fierce howlings hurt not me, But I think how they beat on the pathless sea ?

Of the breaking mast ? of the parting rope ?

Of the anxious strife, and the failing hope.'

” 'Mamma,' said the child, with streaming eyes, My father has gone above the skies; And you tell me this world is mean and base Compared with heaven ? that blessed place.'

” 'My daughter, I know ? I believe it all ?

I would not his spirit to earth recal.

The bless'd one he ? his storm was brief ?

Mine, a long tempest of tears and grief.

” 'I have you, my darling ? I should not sigh ?

I have one star more in my cloudy sky ?

The hope that we both shall join him there, In that perfect rest from weeping and care.' ”

”Well, mother; how do you like it?” said Hugh, whose eyes gave tender witness to his liking for it.

”It is pretty” ? said Mrs. Rossitur.

Hugh exclaimed, and Fleda, laughing, took it out of her hand.

”Why, mother,” said Hugh ? ”it is Fleda's!”

”Fleda's!” exclaimed Mrs. Rossitur, s.n.a.t.c.hing the magazine again. ”My dear child, I was not thinking in the least of what I was reading. Fleda's!” ?

She read it over anew, with swimming eyes this time, and then clasped Fleda in her arms, and gave her, not words, but the better reward of kisses and tears. They remained so a long time, even till Hugh left them; and then Fleda, released from her aunt's embrace, still crouched by her side with one arm in her lap.

They both sat thoughtfully looking into the fire till it had burnt itself out, and nothing but a glowing bed of coals remained.

”That is an excellent young man,” said Mrs. Rossitur.

”Who?”

”Mr. Olmney. He sat with me some time after you had gone.”

”So you said before,” said Fleda, wondering at the troubled expression of her aunt's face.

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