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

Ishmael gravely, and almost severely.

      "It is true."

      "But to return to your countess, my father. I am not mistaken in that lady's face, I know. I have not seen it since I was eight years old; but it is before me now! a sweet, sad, patient young face, full of holy love. Among the earliest memories of my life is that of the young Countess of Hurstmonceux, and the stories that were afloat concerning herself and you. It was said that every day at sunset she would go to the turnstile at the crossroads on the edge of the estate, where she could see all up and down two roads for many miles, and there stand watching to catch the first glimpse of you, if perhaps you might be returning home. She did this for years and years, until people began to say that she was crazed with hope deferred. It was at that very stile I first saw her. And when I looked at her lovely face and thought of her many charities—for there was no suffering from poverty in that neighborhood while she lived there—I felt that she was an angel!"

      "Aye! a fallen angel, Ishmael!"

      "No, father! no! my life and soul on her truth and love! Children are good judges of character, you know! And I was but eight years old on the occasion of which I speak! I was carrying a basket of tools for the 'professor,' whose assistant I was; and who would have carried them himself only that his back was bent beneath a load of kitchen utensils, for we had been plastering a cistern all day and in coming home took these things to mend in the evening. And as we passed down the road we saw this lovely lady leaning on the stile. And she called me to her and laid her hand on my head and looked in my face very tenderly, and turning to the professor, said: 'This child is too young for so heavy a burden.' And she took out her purse and would have given me an eagle, only that Aunt Hannah had taught me never to take money that I had not earned."

      "Grim Hannah! It is a marvel she had not starved you with her scruples, Ishmael! But what else passed between you and the countess?"

      "Not much! but if she was sorry for me, I was quite as sorry for her."

      "There was a bond of sympathy between you which you felt without understanding at the time!"

      "There was; though I mistook its precise character. Seeing that she wore black, I said: 'Have you also lost your mother, my lady, and are you in deep mourning for her?' And she answered, 'I am in deep mourning for my dead happiness, child!'"

      "For her dead honor, she might have said!"

      "Father! the absent are like the dead; they cannot defend themselves," said Ishmael.

      "That is true; and I stand rebuked! And henceforth, whatever I may think, I will never speak evil of the Countess of Hurstmonceux."

      "Go farther yet, dear sir! seek an explanation with her, and my word on it she will be able to confute the calumnies, or clear up the suspicious circumstances or whatever it may have been that has shaken your confidence in her, and kept you apart so long."

      "Ishmael it is a subject that I have never broached to the countess, and one that I could not endure to discuss with her!"

      "What, my father? Would you forever condemn her unheard? We do not treat our worst criminals so!"

      "Spare me, my son! for I have spared her!"

      "If by sparing her you mean that you have left her alone, you had better not spared her; you had better sought divorce; then one of two things would have happened—either she would have disproved the charges brought against her, or she would have been set free! either alternative much better than her present condition."

      "I could not drag my domestic troubles into a public courtroom,

       Ishmael!"

      "Not when justice required it, father?—But you are going down into the neighborhood of Brudenell Hall! You will hear of her from the people among whom she lived for so many years, and who cherish her memory as that of an angel of mercy, and—you will change your opinion of her."

      Herman Brudenell smiled incredulously, and then said:

      "Apropos of my visit to Brudenell Hall! I hope, Ishmael, that you will be able to join me there in the course of the summer?"

      "Father, yes! I promise you to do so. I will be at pains to put my business in such train as will enable me to visit you for a week or two."

      "Thanks, Ishmael! And now, do you know I think the first dinner bell rang some time ago and it is time to dress?"

      And Herman Brudenell arose, and after pressing Ishmael's hand, left the library.

      The interview furnished Ishmael with too much food for thought to admit of his moving for some time. He sat by the table in a brown study, reflecting upon all that he had heard, until he was suddenly startled by the pealing out of the second bell. Then he sprang up, hurried to his chamber, hastily arranged his toilet, and went down into the dining room, where he found all the family already assembled and waiting for him.

CHAPTER IV.

       Table of Contents

      BEE.

      And coldly from that noble heart,

       In all its glowing youth,

       His lore had turned and spurned apart

       Its tenderness and truth—

       Let him alone to live, or die—

       Alone!—Yet, who is she?

       Some guardian angel from the sky,

       To bless and aid him?—Bee!

       —Anon.

      Ishmael received many other invitations. One morning, while he was seated at the table in his office, Walter Middleton entered, saying:

      "Ishmael, leave reading over those stupid documents and listen to me. I am going to Saratoga for a month. Come with me; it will do you good."

      "Thank you all the same, Walter; but I cannot leave the city now," said Ishmael.

      "Nonsense! there is but little doing; and now, if ever, you should take some recreation."

      "But I am busy with getting up some troublesome cases for the next term."

      "And that's worse than nonsense! Leave the cases alone until the court sits; take some rest and recreation and you will find it pay well in renewed vigor of body and mind. I that tell you so am an M. D., you know."

      "I thank you, Dr. Middleton, and when I find myself growing weak I will follow your prescription," smiled Ishmael, rising and beginning to tie up his documents.

      "And that's a signal for my dismissal, I suppose. Off to the City

       Hall again this morning?" inquired Walter.

      "Yes; to keep an appointment," replied Ishmael. And the friends separated.

      Later in the day, when the young attorney had returned and was spending his leisure hour in going on with the book-packing, Judge Merlin entered and threw himself into a chair and for some moments watched the packer.

      "What is that you are doing now, Ishmael? Oh, I see; doctoring a sick book!"

      "Well, I dislike to see a fine volume that has served us faithfully and seen hard usage perish for the want of a moment's attention; it is but that which is required when we have the mucilage at hand," he said, smiling and pointing to the bottle and brush, and then deposited the book in its packing-case.

      "But that is not what I come to talk to you about. Have you found a proper room for an office yet?"

      "Yes; I have a suite of rooms on the first floor of a house on Louisiana Avenue. The front room I shall use for a public office, the middle one for a private office, and the back one, which opens upon a pleasant porch and a garden, for a bedchamber; for I shall lodge there and board with the family," replied Ishmael.

      "That