Cruel As The Grave

Where rose the mountains, there for her were friends,

Where fell the valley, therein was her home;

Where the steep rock and dizzy peak ascends,

She had the passion and the power to roam.

The crag, the forest, cavern, torrent's foam,

Were unto her companions, and they spake

A natural language clearer than the tone

Of her best books, which she would oft forsake

For Nature's pages, lit by moonbeams on the lake.--BYRON.

Jealousy, once called to life in any human heart, is not easily to be

destroyed. Sybil Berners' almost unconscious jealousy suddenly called

into existence, and as suddenly soothed to sleep, was awakened again by

something that occurred just as the travellers were about to start.

It was the merest trifle, yet one of those trifles which turn the course

of fate just as surely as the little switch of the railroad controls the

direction of the train.

The travellers were just entering the stage-coach. Mr. Berners handed

in first Mrs. Blondelle, then Mrs. Berners, and then he himself entered.

"You sit down here in this right-hand corner, Lyon, dear, and I will sit

in the middle next to you, and Mrs. Blondelle shall sit in the left-hand

corner next to me," said Sybil, still standing while she pointed out

their several places on the back seat; and she spoke perhaps under the

influence of a latent jealousy, that instigated her to place herself

between her husband and her guest, for that long journey.

"No, no, my dear, not so; but if you will change places with me and take

the right-hand corner-seat, while our fair friend occupies the left-hand

one, I will sit between you two ladies, the proverbial 'thorn between

two roses,'" replied Lyon Berners, gayly and gallantly, with perhaps on

his side a latent desire to sit next the beautiful blonde, but also

quite unconscious of how these words had disappointed and wounded her

whom he would not have willingly wronged for the world.

Sybil silently took her seat, leaving the others to follow her example.

Mr. Berners politely put Mrs. Blondelle in the left-hand corner, and

then seated himself in the middle seat, between his wife and her guest.

In front of them, on the movable central seat, sat Mrs. Blondelle's

child and nurse. Facing them on the front seat, with their backs to the

horses, were the two negro servants, Mr. Berners' valet and Mrs.

Berners' maid.

Though the morning was a very fine one for travelling, there were no

other passengers inside, or out. Mr. Berners and his party had the whole

coach to themselves, at least, at starting.

Sybil thought she had never seen her husband in gayer spirits. As the

horses started and the coach rattled along over the stony streets of the

city, Mr. Berners turned smilingly to Mrs. Blondelle, and said: "I know of few pleasanter things in this pleasant world than a journey

through our native State of Virginia, taken at this delightful season of

the year; and of all routes I know of none affording such a variety of

beautiful and sublime scenery as this we are now starting upon."