her; and how proud and happy it made me to have
him say so, and know that his words were true! No one who has not felt
as I did, the mortification, the shame and anguish of believing myself
the daughter of a convicted criminal, can understand the intense, the
almost worshipping reverence with which I regarded my late-found parent.
To feel pride instead of humiliation, exultation instead of shame, and
love instead of abhorrence, how great the contrast, how unspeakable the
relief, how sublime and holy the gratitude!

CHAPTER LIX.

The snows of winter melted, the diamond icicles dropped from the trees,
the glittering fetters slipped from the streams, and nature came forth a
captive released from bondage, glowing with the joy of emancipation.

Nothing could be more beautiful, more glorious, than the valley in its
vernal garniture. Such affluence of verdure; such rich, sweeping
foliage; such graceful undulation of hill and dale; such exquisite
blending of light and shade; such pure, rejoicing breezes; such blue,
resplendent skies never before met, making _a tableau vivant_ on which
the eye of the great Creator must look down with delight.

It was the first time Mrs. Linwood had witnessed the opening of spring
at Grandison Place, and her faded spirits revived in the midst of its
blooming splendor. She bad preferred its comparative retirement during
the past winter, and, in spite of the solicitations of her friends,
refused to go to the metropolis. My father and Julian both felt an
artist's rapture at the prospect unrolled in a grand panorama around
them, and transferred to the canvas many a glowing picture. It was
delightful to watch the progress of these new creations,--but far more
interesting when the human face was the subject of the pencil. Edith and
myself were multiplied into so many charming forms, it is strange we
were not made vain by gazing on them.

I was very grasping in my wishes, and wanted quite a picture gallery of
my friends,--Mrs. Linwood, Edith, and Dr. Harlowe; and my indulgent
father made masterly sketches of all for his exacting daughter. And thus
day succeeded day, and no wave from Indian seas wafted tidings of the
absent husband and son. No "Star of the East" dawned on the nightshades
of my heart. And the raven voice kept echoing in my ear, "Never more,
never more." There had been a terrible gale sweeping along the whole
eastern coast of the Atlantic, and many a ship had gone down, freight