ords could have done), to induce that gentleman to allow
Harry to remain where he was all day; likewise to extort a promise that
he might come to see the lady whenever and as often as she chose to
trouble herself with the care of him: and this being nicely arranged,
Harry's papa went his way and they went theirs. And Harry did that day
what is seldom done in this world of disappointment--more than realized
his anticipations. He sat on the bank and heard the birds sing; he
played at horse until he was tired; and though he did not build mud
houses, he ate sugar ones, which was, in every respect, a vast
improvement on the original design; and, what was more than all, his
little playfellow, whose temper was as sunny as his face, never gave
him a cross word or look the whole day through. They had supper, when
the time came, under the rustling leaves of a huge green tree; and there
were raisins and nuts and candy, cakes grotesquely cut and twisted into
every conceivable shape, and every imaginable dainty. All through that
memorable day, Harry was the happiest of the happy. Other days succeeded
this that were but a thought less bright. A time had come when the rough
path seemed smooth to the little pilgrim's feet, and flowers sprang up
by the lonely wayside, and golden sunlight fell through the rifted
clouds and crowned the little head with its blessing, and light and
warmth crept into the chilled and desolate life, and made existence
beautiful: a brief and joyful time, on which was written, as on all
bright things of earth, those words of mournfulness unutterable:
'Passing away!'

PART SECOND.

It is that hour of day's decline when the turbulent roar from the city's
busy mart is hushed into a lazy hum, when a peaceful, quiet calm
breathes through the atmosphere and settles on the noisy earth, as if
all things were hushed into tranquil silence at thought of the coming
twilight's holy hour. The sun's red, slanting rays fall on the dusty
pavement in front of that gloomy, stately mansion which Harry calls his
home, enter a richly furnished room where the blinds are thrown open and
the curtains looped back, and with their fervent glow rest
compassionately upon a drooping female figure, upon a bent head bowed in
shame, a head still young, whose wealth of rich black tresses passion
and remorse have already marked with gray. Sin-stricken, woe-stricken,
and remorseful, feeling how inefficient is even her mother's love, how
powerle