all the time picturing terrible
possibilities. Think of all that Nesbit has had to endure. Think of
how that selfish woman wrecked his past, and ask yourself if there is
any justice--not mercy--bare justice, in letting her wreck his future,
now that the child's death has severed the last link that bound them
together. Has _any thing_ been spared Nesbit? Has not his heart been
wrung again and again? Put yourself in his place, Berkeley, and
acknowledge that after so much tempest, he is entitled to _some_
sunshine, How _can_ Pocahontas stand it? Could _I_, if it were _you_?
Could I endure to see you suffer? Do you think that if _you_ were in
Nesbit's place I would not come to you, and put my arms round you, and
draw your head to my bosom and whisper--'Dear love, if to all this
bitterness I can bring one single drop of sweet, take it freely, fully
from my lips and from my love?'"

CHAPTER XXIII.

Berkeley Mason went on to New York in ample time to meet the incoming
Cunarder. His sister accompanied him, and as it was her first visit to
the Empire City, Mason arranged to have nearly a week for lionizing
before the arrival of the travelers. Percival was allowed to come from
Hoboken and join the party, in order that his mother's eyes might be
gladdened by the sight of him the instant she should land.

At the last moment, General Smith was prevented from joining his family
in Paris according to his original intention, and having old-fashioned
notions relative to the helplessness of ladies, and no sort of
confidence in Blanche's ability to distinguish herself as her mother's
courier and protector, he cabled privately to Nesbit Thorne, requesting
him to defer his Eastern journey for a month, and escort his aunt and
cousin home. Thorne changed his plans readily enough. He only
contemplated prolonged travel as an expedient to fill the empty days,
and if he could be of service to his relatives, held himself quite at
their disposal.

Pocahontas was ignorant of this change of programme, or it is certain
that she would have remained in Virginia. Her feelings toward Thorne
had undergone no change, but, after the long struggle, there had come
to her a quiescence that was almost peace. So worn and tempest-tossed
had been her mind, that she clung to even this semblance of rest, and
would hardly yet have risked the re-opening of the battle, which a
meeting with Thorne would be sure to inaugurate.

She was glad to se