de
white path that led from the night of my discontent, out into the
morning of the day called peace. I could not stay there and cry, I must
pass Clara's door to go to my room, and throwing a shawl over my
shoulders I rushed out, and fairly flew over the frozen ground to that
dear old apple tree. What a strange place to go to, standing under those
bare limbs, or rather walking to and fro, but I could not help it! This
same old tree had heard my cries and seen my tears for years. I covered
my face with both hands, and wept aloud. I could not have been there
long, when I felt a presence, and Louis was beside me.

Putting an arm around me, he said tenderly, "Come in, Emily."

"Oh, Louis!" I cried, "I cannot, they will see my face, what shall I do?
how came you here?" and I still kept crying and sobbing as if my heart
would break.

"Why Emily, my royal Emily, come into little mother's room,--she has
lain down,--and tell me why you weep."

I yielded gratefully, not gracefully, and we were seated alone, all
alone, and he was saying to me:

"Emily, tell me what it is, you have troubled me so long, your eyes have
grown so sad. Oh! Emily, my darling, may I not know your secret sorrow?
I can wait longer, my year has flown, and three months more, and still
my heart is waiting; tell me your sorrow, and then let me say to you
what I have waited in patience to repeat."

It was not a dream, my heart beat like a bird, and I could tell him,
only too gladly. "Emily will do it."

CHAPTER XV.

EMILY FINDS PEACE.

As soon as I could control my voice I said, "I cannot tell you why I cry
so bitterly. I felt so strangely when I read this terrible letter, which
Matthias had picked up in the road and given to me. Instead of sorrow
covering me, as would seem natural, sorrow for another, not myself, I
said, 'thank God,' for it seemed as if I had looked at something that
would lead me from darkness to light. I have been so miserable, Louis;
Mr. Benton has tormented me so long, that I have been filled with
despair, and I begin to believe I shall never be worth anything again;
oh! I am grieving so, and yet feel such a strange joy;" and I shook as
if with ague.

Louis looked as if wonder-struck, and holding both my hands in one of
his, drew my head to his shoulder, and with his arm still round me, put
his hand on my forehead.

"Your head is like fire, Emily; the first thing is for you to get quiet;
a terrible mistake has been ma