Ishmael; Or, In the Depths. Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

the celebration of his birthday."

      They had now reached the top of the hill and come upon a full view of the house and grounds.

      The house, as I said, was a very elegant edifice of white free-stone; it was two stories in height, and had airy piazzas running the whole length of the front, both above and below; a stately portico occupied the center of the lower piazza, having on each side of it the tall windows of the drawing-rooms. This portico and all these windows were now wide open, mutely proclaiming welcome to all comers. The beautifully laid out grounds were studded here and there with tents pitched under the shade trees, for the accommodation of the out-door guest, who were now assembling rapidly.

      But the more honored guests of the house had not yet begun to arrive.

      And none of the family were as yet visible.

      On reaching the premises the sisters were really embarrassed, not knowing where to go, and finding no one to direct them.

      At length a strange figure appeared upon the scene—a dwarfish mulatto, with a large head, bushy hair, and having the broad forehead and high nose of the European, with the thick lips and heavy jaws of the African; with an ashen gray complexion, and a penetrating, keen and sly expression of the eyes. With this strange combination of features he had also the European intellect with the African utterance. He was a very gifted original, whose singularities of genius and character will reveal themselves in the course of this history, and he was also one of those favored old family domestics whose power in the house was second only to that of the master, and whose will was law to all his fellow servants; he had just completed his fiftieth year, and his name was Jovial.

      And he now approached the sisters, saying:

      "Mornin', Miss Hannah—mornin', Miss Nora. Come to see de show? De young heir hab a fool for his master for de fust time to-day."

      "We have come to the birthday celebration; but we do not know where we ought to go—whether to the house or the tents," said Hannah.

      The man tucked his tongue into his cheek and squinted at the sisters, muttering to himself:

      "I should like to see de mist'ess' face, ef you two was to present yourselves at de house!"

      Then, speaking aloud, he said:

      "De house be for de quality, an' de tents for de colored gemmen and ladies; an' de barn for de laborin' classes ob de whites. Shall I hab de honor to denounce you to de barn?"

      "I thank you, yes, since it is there we are expected to go," said Hannah.

      Jovial led the way to an immense barn that had been cleaned out and decorated for the occasion. The vast room was adorned with festoons of evergreens and paper flowers. At the upper end was hung the arms of the Brudenells. Benches were placed along the walls for the accommodation of those who might wish to sit. The floor was chalked for the dancers.

      "Dere, young women, dere you is," said Jovial loftily, as he introduced the sisters into this room, and retired.

      There were some thirty-five or forty persons present, including men, women, and children, but no one that was known to the sisters. They therefore took seats in a retired corner, from which they watched the company.

      "How many people there are! Where could they all have come from?" inquired Nora.

      "I do not know. From a distance, I suppose. People will come a long way to a feast like this. And you know that not only were the tenants and laborers invited, but they were asked to bring all their friends and relations as well!" said Hannah.

      "And they seemed to have improved the opportunity," added Nora.

      "Hush, my dear; I do believe here come Mr. Brudenell and the ladies," said Hannah.

      And even as she spoke the great doors of the barn were thrown open, and the young landlord and his family entered.

      First came Mr. Brudenell, a young gentleman of medium height, and elegantly rather than strongly built; his features were regular and delicate; his complexion fair and clear; his hair of a pale, soft, golden tint; and in contrast to all this, his eyes were of a deep, dark, burning brown, full of fire, passion, and fascination. There was no doubt about it—he was beautiful! I know that is a strange term to apply to a man, but it is the only true and comprehensive one to characterize the personal appearance of Herman Brudenell. He was attired in a neat black dress suit, without ornaments of any kind; without even a breastpin or a watch chain.

      Upon his arm leaned his mother, a tall, fair woman with light hair, light blue eyes, high aquiline features, and a haughty air. She wore a rich gray moire antique, and a fine lace cap.

      Behind them came the two young lady sisters, so like their mother that no one could have mistaken them. They wore white muslin dresses, sashes of blue ribbon, and wreaths of blue harebells. They advanced with smiles intended to be gracious, but which were only condescending.

      The eyes of all the people in the barn were fixed upon this party, except those of Nora Worth, which were riveted upon the young heir.

      And this was destiny!

      There was nothing unmaidenly in her regard. She looked upon him as a peasant girl might look upon a passing prince—as something grand, glorious, sunlike, and immeasurably above her sphere; but not as a human being, not as a young man precisely like other young men.

      While thus, with fresh lips glowingly apart, and blushing cheeks, and eyes full of innocent admiration, she gazed upon him, he suddenly turned around, and their eyes met full. He smiled sweetly, bowed lowly, and turned slowly away. And she, with childlike delight, seized her sister's arm and exclaimed:

      "Oh, Hannah, the young heir bowed to me, he did indeed!"

      "He could do no less, since you looked at him so hard," replied the sister gravely.

      "But to me, Hannah, to me—just think of it! No one ever bowed to me before, not even the negroes! and to think of him—Mr. Brudenell—bowing to me—me!"

      "I tell you he could do no less; he caught you looking at him; to have continued staring you in the face would have been rude; to have turned abruptly away would have been equally so; gentlemen are never guilty of rudeness, and Mr. Brudenell is a gentleman; therefore he bowed to you, as I believe he would have bowed to a colored girl even."

      "Oh, but he smiled! he smiled so warmly and brightly, just for all the world like the sun shining out, and as if, as if—"

      "As if what, you little goose?"

      "Well, then, as if he was pleased."

      "It was because he was amused; he was laughing at you, you silly child!"

      "Do you think so?" asked Nora, with a sudden change of tone from gay to grave.

      "I am quite sure of it, dear," replied the elder sister, speaking her real opinion.

      "Laughing at me," repeated Nora to herself, and she fell into thought.

      Meanwhile, with a nod to one a smile to another and a word to a third, the young heir and his party passed down the whole length of the room, and retired through an upper door. As soon as they were gone the negro fiddlers, six in number, led by Jovial, entered, took their seats, tuned their instruments, and struck up a lively reel.

      There was an, immediate stir; the rustic beaus sought their belles, and sets were quickly formed.

      A long, lanky, stooping young man, with a pale, care-worn face and grayish hair, and dressed in a homespun jacket and trousers, came up to the sisters.

      "Dance, Hannah?" he inquired.

      "No, thank you, Reuben; take Nora out—she would like to."

      "Dance, Nora?" said Reuben Gray, turning obediently to the younger sister.

      "Set you up with it, after asking Hannah first, right before my very eyes. I'm not a-going to take anybody's cast-offs, Mr. Reuben!"

      "I