to awe. Had it not been for the childlike, unconscious simplicity of her
manners, the young people of her age would have shrunk away from her,
as from one entirely out of their line of thought and feeling; but a
certain natural and innocent playfulness and amiable self-forgetfulness
made her a general favorite.

Nevertheless, Mrs. Scudder knew no young man whom she deemed worthy to
have and hold a heart which she priced so highly. As to James, he stood
at double disadvantage, because, as her cousin's son, he had grown up
from childhood under her eye, and all those sins and iniquities into
which gay and adventurous youngsters will be falling had come to her
knowledge. She felt kindly to the youth; she wished him well; but as to
giving him her Mary!--the very suggestion made her dislike him. She was
quite sure he must have tried to beguile her,--he must have tampered
with her feelings, to arouse in her pure and well-ordered mind so much
emotion and devotedness as she had witnessed.

How encouraging a Providence, then, was it that he was gone to sea for
three years!--how fortunate that Mary had been prevented in any way from
committing herself with him!--how encouraging that the only man in those
parts, in the least fitted to appreciate her, seemed so greatly pleased
and absorbed in her society!--how easily might Mary's dutiful reverence
be changed to a warmer sentiment, when she should find that so great a
man could descend from his lofty thoughts to think of her!

In fact, before Mrs. Scudder had gone to sleep the first night after
James's departure, she had settled upon the house where the minister
and his young wife were to live, had reviewed the window-curtains and
bed-quilts for each room, and glanced complacently at an improved
receipt for wedding-cake which might be brought out to glorify a certain
occasion!

CHAPTER VII.

THE FRIENDS AND RELATIONS OF JAMES.

Mr. Zebedee Marvyn, the father of James, was the sample of an
individuality so purely the result of New England society and education,
that he must be embodied in our story as a representative man of the
times.

He owned a large farm in the immediate vicinity of Newport, which he
worked with his own hands and kept under the most careful cultivation.
He was a man past the middle of life, with a white head, a keen blue
eye, and a face graven deeply with the lines of energy and thought. His
was one of those clearly-cut minds which New England forms