e received such
true tokens of hospitality; and while I confess to an eager desire to
behold again my relatives, it will not be without very great pain that I
shall part from those whose warmest sympathies and tenderest care were
exercised towards a helpless stranger."

"I have heard," said Mr. Pierce, turning to Mrs. Williamson, whose
countenance told the emotion she felt at the intimation of Agnes's
speedy departure, "I have heard of =some= entertaining 'angels
unawares,' and I should judge you have been thus fortunate, Mrs. W."

"You may, indeed, say so, Sir," said the good woman, wiping away a tear
with the corner of her apron; "I cannot tell you what a blessing this
young lady has been, not only to my family, but to the whole
neighborhood. Indeed, Sir, you would be surprised to see what a change
has been effected by her in this place. Miss Wiltshire has established a
day school for the children, and a night class for the young people; and
our Sabbaths, that some spent in sleep, others in doing nothing, or
worse than nothing, now pass in a very different manner, for we have
both Church and Sabbath school, and 'come up with those that keep holy
day.' What we shall do without her, I cannot imagine, though, to be
sure, it would be dreadfully selfish in me to wish her to stay longer,
for those to whom she belongs must be breaking their hearts after so
lovely a creature."

The above conversation, which was addressed particularly to the Captain,
was delivered in an under-tone, and was therefore unheard by Agnes, who
was an attentive listener to Mr. Clifford, as he called up all the
varied powers of his fine intellect for the purpose of describing the
scenes through which he had passed; and he was well rewarded for his
efforts by the sweet smile, and breathless interest, with which Agnes
heard the narration.

CHAPTER XII.

"What a lovely evening," exclaimed Arthur Bernard, as rising from his
seat, by the invalid's couch, he drew aside the thick folds of the
crimson damask curtains, allowing the glorious rays of the full-orbed
moon to illuminate the apartment.

"My dear Sir," he said kindly, turning to Mr. Denham, the uncle of
Agnes, for he it was who reclined on the velvet lounge, propped up by
pillows, "I am sure it would do you good, on a fine spring day such as
this has been, to take a short drive through the suburbs of the city.
The fresh, balmy air of delightful May would prove, as your physician
told