a toward her brother's guest. She
realized with painful force the wrong that her thoughtlessness, more
than her malice, had inflicted on a noble character, and it required all
of Arthur's winning sweetness of disposition to remove from her mind the
impression that she stood, while in his presence, in the light of an
unforgiven culprit. They were necessarily much in each other's company,
in the course of the many rambles and excursions that were devised to
relieve the monotony of the old manor house, and Oriana was surprised to
feel herself insensibly attracted toward the shy and pensive man, whose
character, so far as it was betrayed by outward sign, was the very
reverse of her own impassioned temperament. She discovered that the
unruffled surface covered an under-current of pure thought and exquisite
feeling, and when, on the bosom of the river, or in the solitudes of
the forest, his spirit threw off its reserve under the spell of nature's
inspiration, she felt her own impetuous organization rebuked and held in
awe by the simple and quiet grandeur that his eloquence revealed.

One afternoon, some two weeks after his arrival at the Riverside manor,
while returning from a canter in the neighborhood, they paused upon an
eminence that overlooked a portion of the city of Richmond. There, upon
an open space, could be seen a great number of the citizens assembled,
apparently listening to the harangue of an orator. The occasional cheer
that arose from the multitude faintly reached their ears, and that mass
of humanity, restless, turbulent and excited, seemed, even at that
distance, to be swayed by some mighty passion.

"Look, Miss Weems," said Arthur, "at this magnificent circle of gorgeous
scenery, that you are so justly proud of, that lies around you in the
golden sunset like a dream of a fairy landscape. See how the slanting
rays just tip the crest of that distant ridge, making it glow like a
coronet of gold, and then, leaping into the river beneath; spangle its
bosom with dazzling sheen, save where a part rests in the purple shadow
of the mountain. Look to the right, and see how those crimson clouds
seem bending from heaven to kiss the yellow corn-fields that stretch
along the horizon. And at your feet, the city of Richmond extends along
the valley."

"We admit the beauty of the scene and the accuracy of the description,"
said Beverly, "but, for my part, I should prefer the less romantic view
of some of Aunt Nancy's batt