"There; be quiet; sit down. I would almost as soon select a small

whirlwind for a companion. Can't you learn to enter a room without

blustering like a March wind or a Texan norther?" asked her uncle.

"Have you all seen a ghost? You look as solemn as grave-diggers.

What ails you, Beulah? Come along to breakfast. How nice you look in

your new clothes!" Her eyes ran over the face and form of the

orphan.

"Pauline, hush! and eat your breakfast. You annoy your uncle," said

her mother severely.

"Oh, do, for gracious' sake, let me talk! I feel sometimes as if I

should suffocate. Everything about this house is so demure, and

silent, and solemn, and Quakerish, and hatefully prim. If ever I

have a house of my own, I mean to paste in great letters over the

doors and windows, 'Laughing and talking freely allowed!' This is my

birthday, and I think I might stay at home. Mother, don't forget to

have the ends of my sash fringed, and the tops of my gloves

trimmed." Draining her small china cup, she sprang up from the

table, but paused beside Beulah.

"By the by, what are you going to wear to-night, Beulah?"

"I shall not go into the parlors at all," answered the latter.

"Why not?" said Dr. Hartwell, looking suddenly up. He met the sad,

suffering expression of the gray eyes, and bit his lip with

vexation. She saw that he understood her feelings, and made no

reply.

"I shall not like it, if you don't come to my party," said Pauline

slowly; and as she spoke she took one of the orphan's hands.

"You are very kind, Pauline; but I do not wish to see strangers."

"But you never will know anybody if you make such a nun of yourself.

Uncle Guy, tell her she must come down into the parlors to-night."

"Not unless she wishes to do so. But, Pauline, I am very glad that

you have shown her you desire her presence." He put his hand on her

curly head, and looked with more than usual affection at the bright,

honest face.

"Beulah, you must get ready for school. Come down as soon as you

can. Pauline will be waiting for you." Mrs. Chilton spoke in the

calm, sweet tone peculiar to her and her brother, but to Beulah

there was something repulsive in that even voice, and she hurried

from the sound of it. Kneeling beside her bed, she again implored

the Father to restore Eugene to her, and, crushing her grief and

apprehension down into her heart, she resolved to veil it from

strangers. As she walked on by Pauline's side, only the excessive

paleness of her face and drooping of her eyelashes betokened her

suffering.




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