political, or theological, made
him a great favorite with the lonely old man. His coming made the winter
evenings bloom. Then the aged clergyman, deprived of sight, bereft of
the companionship of books, and of the varied consolations of an active
life, felt his heart warmed and his brain enlivened by the wine of
conversation. He and Penn, to be sure, did not always agree. Especially
on the subject of _non-resistance_ they had many warm and well-contested
arguments; the young Quaker manifesting, by his zeal in the controversy,
that he had an abundance of "fight" in him without knowing it.

Nor to Mr. Villars alone did Penn's visits bring pleasure. They
delighted equally young Carl and old Toby. And Virginia? Why, being
altogether devoted to her blind parent, for whose happiness she could
never do enough, she was, of course, enchanted with the attentions she
saw Penn pay _him_. That was all; at least, the dear girl thought that
was all.

As for Salina, forsaken spouse of the gay Lysander Sprowl, she too,
after sulkily brooding over her misfortunes all day, was glad enough to
have any intelligent person come in and break the monotony of her sad
life in the evening.

Such were Penn's relations with the family to whom alone he durst apply
for refuge in his distress. Others might indeed have ventured to shelter
him; but they, like Stackridge, were hated Unionists, and any mercy
shown to him would have brought evil upon themselves. Mr. Villars,
however, blind and venerated old man, had sufficient influence over the
people, Penn believed, to serve as a protection to his household even
with him in it.

So hither he came--how unwillingly let the proud and sensitive judge.
For Penn, though belonging to the meekest of sects, was of a soul by
nature aspiring and proud. He had the good sense to know that the
outrage committed on him was in reality no disgrace, except to those
guilty of perpetrating it. Yet no one likes to appear ridiculous. And
the man of elevated spirit instinctively shrinks from making known his
misfortunes even to his best friends; he is ashamed of that for which he
is in no sense to blame, and he would rather suffer heroically in
secret, than become an object of pity.

Most of all, as I have said, Penn dreaded the pure Virginia's eyes. Mr.
Villars could not see him, and for Salina he did not care
much--singularly enough, for she alone was of an acrid and sarcastic
temper. What he devoutly desired was, to c