hide myself from every eye; for a seat beneath the wild
oaks that girdled the cottage of my childhood; but the house was
thronged with the literati of the State, and wherever I turned I met the
gaze of strangers. If I could have seen Mrs. Linwood alone, or Edith
alone, and told them how wantonly, how cruelly my feelings had been
wounded, it would have relieved the fulness, the oppression of my heart.
But that was impossible. Mrs. Linwood's commanding social position, her
uncommon and varied powers of conversation, the excellence and dignity
of her character, made her the cynosure of the literary circle. Edith,
too, from her exquisite loveliness, the sweetness of her disposition,
and her personal misfortune, which endeared her to her friends by the
tenderness and sympathy it excited, was a universal favorite; and all
these attractive qualities in both were gilded and enhanced by the
wealth which enabled them to impart, even more than they received. They
were at home here,--they were in the midst of friends, whose society was
congenial to their tastes, and I resolved, whatever I might suffer, not
to mar their enjoyment by my selfish griefs. Ernest had heard
all,--perhaps he believed all. He did not know my mother. He had never
seen that face of heavenly purity and holy sorrow. Why should he not
believe?

One thing I could do. I could excuse myself from dinner and thus secure
an hour's quietude. I gave no false plea, when I urged a violent
headache as the reason for my seclusion. My temples ached and throbbed
as if trying to burst from a metallic band, and the sun rays, though
sifted through curtains of folding lace, fell like needle points on my
shrinking eyes.

"Poor Gabriella!" said Edith, laying her cool soft hand on my hot brow,
"I did not think you were such a tender, green-house plant. I cannot
bear to leave you here, when you could enjoy such an intellectual
banquet below. Let me stay with you. I fear you are really very ill. How
unfortunate!"

"No, no, dear Edith; you must not think of such a thing. Just close
those blinds, and give me that fan, and I shall be very comfortable
here. If possible let no one come in. If I could sleep, this paroxysm
will pass over."

"There, sleep if you can, dear Gabriella, and be bright for the evening
party. You knew the dresses mamma gave us for the occasion, both alike.
I could not think of wearing mine, unless you were with me,--and you
look so charmingly in white!"

Edi