she could labor on
unwearied. Without a thought of deception, she gloried in the harmless
frauds to which she contributed, but could n't resist the contagion of
credulity around her. How easily could such a spirit have been moulded
to every good gift, and qualities like these have been made to minister
to comfort and happiness, and the faith that was given to gilt paper,
and glue, and varnish, elevated to all that is highest in the moral and
material world!

And now they were all in slumber beneath that roof,--all save one. Poor
Nelly sat at her window, tearful and sad. In the momentary excitement of
receiving her guests she had forgotten her cares; but now they came back
upon her, coupled with all the fears their wasteful habits could suggest
At times she blamed herself for the tame cowardice which beset her, and
restrained her from every effort to avert the coming evil; and at times
she resigned herself to the gloomy future, with the stern patience
of the Indian who saw his canoe swept along into the rapids above the
cataract. There was not one to turn to for advice or counsel, and the
strength that would have sustained her in any other trial was here
sapped by the dread of giving pain to her father. "It would ill become
_me_ to give him cause for sorrow,--I, that of all his children have
ministered nothing to his pride nor his happiness!" Such was the
estimate she held of herself, and such the reasoning that flowed from
it.

CHAPTER XIX. THE CURSAAL.

The attempt to accommodate a company to which the house was unsuited
would have been a source of painful annoyance to most men. To Peter
Dalton it was unqualified pleasure. The subversion of all previous
arrangements, the total change in the whole order of domesticity, were
his delight The changing of rooms, the being sent to sleep in strange
and inconvenient corners, the hurry-scurry endeavors to find a
substitute for this or a representative for that, the ingenious devices
to conceal a want or to supply a deficiency, afforded him the most
lively amusement; and he went about rubbing his hands, and muttering
that it did his heart good. It was "so like Mount Dalton when he was a
boy."

All Mrs. Ricketts's softest blandishments were so many charms clean
thrown away. His thoughts were centred on himself and his own amiable
qualities, and he revelled in the notion that the world did not contain
another as truly generous and hospitable as Peter Dalton. In accordan