Self-Raised; Or, From the Depths. Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

only difference was that the window in the Washington attic looked down upon the great city and the winding of the river among wooded and rolling hills; while the window of the cottage here looked down upon broad fields sloping to the shore, and upon the vast sea-like expanse of water stretching out of sight under the distant horizon.

      The comparison between his two study-windows was in Ishmael's mind as he stood gazing upon the shadowy green fields and the starlit sky and water.

      Not long he stood there; he was weary with his journey; so he offered up his evening prayers and went to bed and to sleep.

      Early in the morning he awoke, and arose to enjoy the beauty of a summer Sunday in the quiet country. It was a deliciously cool, bright, beautiful autumnal morning.

      Ishmael looked out over land and water for a little while, and then quickly dressed himself, offered up his morning prayers and went below.

      The family were already assembled in the parlor, and all greeted him cordially.

      The table was set, and Sally, neat in her Sunday clothes and splendid in her coral brooch, was waiting ready to bring in the breakfast.

      And a fine breakfast it was, of fragrant coffee, rich cream, fresh butter, Indian corn bread, Maryland biscuits, broiled birds, boiled crabs, etc.

      And Ishmael, upon whom the salt sea air of the coast was already producing a healthful change, did ample justice to the luxuries spread before him.

      "For church this morning, Ishmael?" inquired Reuben.

      "Yes; but I must walk over to Tanglewood and go with the judge. He would scarcely ever forgive me if I were to go anywhere, even to church, before visiting him."

      "No more he wouldn't, that's a fact," admitted Reuben.

CHAPTER VII.

       Table of Contents

      AT TANGLEWOOD.

      Are not the forests, waves and skies, a part

       Of me and of my soul as I of them?

       Is not the love of these deep in my heart

       With a pure passion? Should I not contemn

       All objects if compared with these? and stem

       A tide of sufferings, rather than forego

       Such feelings for the hard and worldly phlegm

       Of those whose eyes are only turned below,

       Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts that dare not glow?

      —Byron.

      After breakfast Ishmael took his hat, and, promising to return in the evening, set out for Tanglewood to spend the day and go to church with the judge.

      How he enjoyed that Sunday morning walk through the depths of the forest that lay between Woodside and Tanglewood.

      He reached the house just as the judge had finished breakfast. He was shown into the room while the old man still lingered in sheer listlessness over his empty cup and plate.

      "Eh, Ishmael! is that you, my boy? Lord bless my soul, how glad I am to see you! Old Jacob was never so glad to see Joseph as I am to see you!" was the greeting of the judge, as he started up, overturning his chair and seizing both his visitor's hands and shaking them vigorously.

      "And I am very glad indeed to see you again, sir! I hope you have been well?" said Ishmael warmly, returning his greeting.

      "Well? Hum, ha, how can I be well? What is that the poet says?

      "'What stamps the wrinkle deepest on the brow,

       It is to be alone as I am now!'

      I miss Claudia, Ishmael. I miss her sadly."

      "Lady Vincent will be with you soon, sir," observed Ishmael, in as steady a voice as he could command.

      "Yes, she will come on the first of October and stop with me for a month. So her letter of Wednesday received yesterday says. And then I shall lose her forever!" complained the judge, with a deep sigh.

      "Ah, but you must look on the bright side, sir! You are independent. You have time and money at your own disposal; and no very strong ties here. You can visit Lady Vincent as often and stay with her as long as you please," smiled Ishmael cheerfully.

      "Why, so I can! I never thought of that before! I may certainly pass at least half my time with my daughter if I please!" exclaimed the old man, brightening up.

      "Are you going to church this morning, sir?" inquired Ishmael.

      "You are, of course!" said the judge; "for you take care never to miss morning service! So I must go!"

      "Not on my account. I know the road," smiled Ishmael.

      "Oh, in any case I should go. I promised to go and dine at the parsonage, so as to attend afternoon service also. And when I mentioned to Mr. Wynne that I was expecting you down he requested me, if you arrived in time, to bring you with me, as he was desirous of forming your acquaintance. So you see, Ishmael, your fame is spreading."

      "I am very grateful to you and to Mr. Wynne," said Ishmael, as his heart suddenly thrilled to the memory that Wynne was the name of the minister who had united his parents in their secret marriage.

      "Has Mr. Wynne been long in this parish?" he inquired.

      "Some three or four months, I believe. This is his native State, however. He used to be stationed at the Baymouth church, but left it some years ago to go as a missionary to Farther India; but as of late his health failed, he returned home and accepted the call to take charge of this parish."

      Ishmael looked wistfully in the face of the judge and said:

      "It was very kind in Mr. Wynne to think of inviting me. Why do you suppose he did it?"

      "Why, I really do suppose that the report of your splendid successes in Washington has reached him, and he feels some curiosity to see a young man who in so short a time has attained so high a position."

      "No, it is not that," said Ishmael, with a genuine blush at this great praise; "but do you really not know what it is?"

      "I do not, unless it is what I said," replied the judge, raising his eyebrows.

      "He married my parents, and baptized me; he knows that I bear my mother's maiden name; and he was familiar with my early poverty and struggles for life; he left the neighborhood when I was about eight years old," said Ishmael, in a low voice.

      The judge opened his eyes and drooped his head for a few moments, and then said:

      "Indeed! Your father, when he told me of his marriage with your mother, did not mention the minister's name. Everything else, I believe, he candidly revealed to me, under the seal of confidence; this omission was accidental, and really unimportant. But how surprised Brudenell will be to learn that his old friend and confidant is stationed here."

      "Yes."

      "And now I can thoroughly understand the great interest Mr. Wynne feels in you. It is not every minister who is the confidant in such a domestic tragedy as that of your poor mother was, Ishmael. It is not only the circumstances of your birth that interest him in you so much, but those taken in connection with your recent successes. I should advise you to meet Mr. Wynne's advances."

      "I shall gratefully do so, sir."

      "And now I really do suppose it is time to order the carriage, if we mean to go to church to-day," said the judge, rising and touching the bell.

      Jim answered it.

      "Have the gray horses put to the barouche and brought around. And put a case of that old port wine in the box; I intend to take it as a present