great talk in the village and all
the country round about. Everybody knew he had money enough, and yet he
had hanged himself for fear of starving to death.

For all that, he was found to have left a will, dated some years before,
leaving his property to his sister Silence, with the exception of a
certain moderate legacy to be paid in money to Myrtle Hazard when she
should arrive at the age of twenty years.

The household seemed more chilly than ever after this tragical event.
Its depressing influence followed the child to school, where she learned
the common branches of knowledge. It followed her to the Sabbath-day
catechisings, where she repeated the answers about the federal headship
of Adam, and her consequent personal responsibilities, and other
technicalities which are hardly milk for babes, perhaps as well as other
children, but without any very profound remorse for what she could not
help, so far as she understood the matter, any more than her sex or
stature, and with no very clear comprehension of the phrases which the
New England followers of the Westminster divines made a part of the
elementary instruction of young people.

At twelve years old she had grown tall and womanly enough to attract the
eyes of the youth and older boys, several of whom made advances towards
her acquaintance. But the dreary discipline of the household had sunk
into her soul, and she had been shaping an internal life for herself,
which it was hard for friendship to penetrate. Bathsheba Stoker was
chained to the bedside of an invalid mother. Olive Eveleth, a kind,
true-hearted girl, belonged to another religious communion; and this
tended to render their meetings less frequent, though Olive was still
her nearest friend. Cyprian was himself a little shy, and rather held
to Myrtle through his sister than by any true intimacy directly with
herself. Of the other young men of the village Gifted Hopkins was
perhaps the most fervent of her admirers, as he had repeatedly shown by
effusions in verse, of which, under the thinnest of disguises, she was
the object.

William Murray Bradshaw, ten years older than herself, a young man of
striking aspect and claims to exceptional ability, had kept his eye on
her of late; but it was generally supposed that he would find a wife
in the city, where he was in the habit of going to visit a fashionable
relative, Mrs. Clymer Ketchum, of 24 Carat Place. She, at any rate,
understood very well that he meant, t