He took her book, and talked with her of its contents. As I looked at them, I could hardly identify him as the same man who had formerly been nearly as much an object of pity, as of respect. He was now a thoroughly polished gentleman, who had been received at almost every court in Europe, and who had, for the last two years, been travelling in close companionship with one of the most cultivated families in New York. I longed to ask about the Misses Karswell, but knew that the present was not a suitable time.

Emily had now recovered herself, and the conversation became general. We conversed regarding places of interest in England and France, and found during the two hours he remained, that in whatever else he had failed, he certainly had acquired the art of conversation. Perhaps he might have been more than usually inspired on the present occasion, for he rendered himself a most delightful companion. Sister usually claims for herself a good share of the talking; but at this time was so obliging as to be a willing listener. When Mr. Benson arose, I invited him to remain and dine with us; but he politely declined, saying he must be in his study as he had not completed his preparation for the Sabbath. But he added that he should be happy to pay his respects to mother before he took leave.

"Emily will accompany you to the cottage," I said, wholly unmindful of her imploring glance. She put on her hat, and with a shake of her head at me, she walked with him across the garden, he having secured permission to repeat his call at an early day.

When Frank came home we had a hearty laugh over our morning adventures.

"I should have liked to have been present," said he, "and to have seen Emily caught in that way."

Soon after, Frank left; it was about three o'clock, I think, I went over to the cottage to laugh at sister, or, with her, just as she felt inclined, when on opening the parlor door, there sat the gentleman as unmoved, as though two sermons were not lying on his study table waiting to be completed. When he saw me, I solemnly declare the man blushed, and no wonder, when he had declined so polite an invitation at our house. I felt inclined to joke him. "I am very glad, sister," I said, "that you persuaded Mr. Benson to remain and _prepare his sermons here_, where he will not be liable to the interruptions incident to his first arrival at home."

He sprang up and took my hand, saying, "spare me, dear Mrs. Lenox; but I must indeed be gone," and he hastily bid us adieu.

Mother was at a loss to account for his sudden flight, until I told her, he had come in here in order to obtain a.s.sistance in preparing for the duties of the Sabbath.

_Friday, August 14th._

Last evening we were invited to a select party at Allen Mansfield's. The Doctor, Emily, and I accepted the invitation. Among the first guests came Mr. Benson, whose unexpected entrance brought a bright blush to Emily's cheek. He was quite the lion of the evening, and all seemed interested and profited by the conversation between him and Frank, who had taken nearly the same tour of Europe. But he paid sister very little attention, though I could see that he watched her closely as her lovely countenance varied with her emotion. "Ah," said I to myself, as the evening closed without his having addressed a single remark directly to Emily, "if you are making love, you have considerably changed your tactics during your absence."

Emily was just taking her brother's arm to walk home, as it was but a short distance, when the young clergyman joined us, saying, "I am sure, Doctor, you are far too generous to monopolize more than your share,"

and he offered his arm to sister. I suppose it is not an uncommon habit for gentlemen of the cloth to be

"Like Isaac with a mind applied To serious thoughts at eventide,"

and Emily was far too good a girl to interrupt such _pious_ meditations.

_Thursday, September 3d._

Mr. Benson called to-day with young Karswell, who is about twenty-four years of age. Mother and sister were pa.s.sing the day here. The young man came on to make his friend a visit; and told us he had lived with him so many years, he could not well live without him. I saw that he was very much pleased with Emily, and engaged her attention almost wholly, while Mr. Benson directed all his conversation to mother, and hardly appeared to notice that she was in the room. For the last few times he has called, especially if any stranger is present, he is extremely reserved.

Even so intimate a friend as the one to-day, rendered him very unlike _the_ Mr. Benson when first returned. They made quite a long call, and Mr. Karswell managed to procure an invitation to return, saying that he must see the Doctor, as his father had often spoken of him. I should judge him to be a frank, open hearted fellow; but with nothing very marked in his character. He is rather pretty, than handsome, with features delicate enough for a girl, and somewhat effeminate in manner.

_Friday, September 4th._

Young Karswell came again to-day and alone, saying, "it is dreadfully dull at Waverley, and as Mr. Benson was not inclined for a ride, I thought I would take one myself and say nothing about it." He asked for sister, and said he thought her handsomer than any lady he had seen when abroad, because there was so much variety in her expression. I accompanied him to the cottage, where in a few moments he appeared to feel as much at home, as if in his mother's parlor. I never knew one, so entirely a stranger, talk so freely of himself, and his friends. He made quite a confident of Emily, telling her that his cousin Virginia, who accompanied them in their travels, "was dead in love with Mr. Benson."

"We heard," said I, joining them, "that he was married to your cousin from the South."

He laughed heartily, as he said, "it is not Virginia's fault that the report is not true, for she would gladly have given herself and her fortune into the bargain. I have often wondered why he did not take her, instead of settling down in such a tame place as Waverley."

Emily's eyes sparkled as she replied, "Mr. Benson is a clergyman, and no place is tame to him where there are souls to be saved."

Young Karswell gazed at her with admiration, as if he would willingly make her angry to see her light up so again. But he only said, "Mr.

Benson is not a marrying man. I don't believe he has it in him to fall in love. During all our travels, though we met with scores of beautiful ladies, I never saw him pay them anything beyond the attention politeness required."

Emily involuntarily let her work fall from her hands, but instantly recovered herself, and redoubled her diligence.

"By the way," continued Mr. Karswell, "is Mr. Benson always as cheerful as he was yesterday?"

I thought he was speaking in irony, and made no reply.

"Because," he added, "he is generally the most reserved man I ever met.

I used to think myself very witty if I could succeed in making him laugh; but when he did, it was just like lightning in a thunder cloud.

Sister Gertrude was always raving about his beautiful mouth."

I left Emily to entertain the gentleman and returned to my babies. It was a full hour before I saw him riding out of the yard.

_Tuesday, September 8th._

Quite a laughable scene took place here this afternoon. Mr. Karswell has been over every day this week; and Emily has become so tired of hearing him talk, that for the last day or two she has invited him to the house with her, for me to help entertain him. I believe the fellow is really in love, or else he is silly, I can't tell which. To-day she came in, having warned me beforehand that she should certainly plead other engagements, and leave him with me. We were hardly seated before Caesar opened the hall door for Mr. Benson, who had not called since he first introduced him. No sooner did Mr. Karswell hear his voice than he jumped from his seat, and tried to escape from the room; but not being able, he had only time to secrete himself behind the door before his friend entered with a remarkably grave face. Now you well know how next to impossible it is sometimes to keep from laughing when you ought. And though I bit my lips and tried my utmost, yet the motion had been so unexpected, that I could hardly refrain from being rude. I advanced to the gentleman and told him with a broad laugh on my face, that it was a very long time since he had called. Emily would not look up, but kept her hat which she held in her hand before her face. I could well understand Mr. Karswell's allusion to the thunder cloud, for I never saw a man put on a more terrible frown. I felt matters were going too far; and was determined to get the young man from his concealment, when Pauline ran in, and shut the door after her. Then the cause of my merriment stood revealed. Seeing there was no help for it, he walked out cooly and shook hands with his friend. I was now very earnest to explain, and to do the young man justice; he was willing to take his full share of the joke. Mr. Benson had not yet been seated, and I feared he would leave under a false impression.

Mr. Karswell thought of nothing but appeasing Emily, whom he feared he had offended. He sat down by her in quite too familiar a manner, which I was glad to see she instantly resented. She rose from her chair, and though her countenance was very pale, said, "your friend unintentionally placed us all in a very awkward situation. Please excuse it."

I looked my thanks at her, and we resumed our seats. Mr. Benson turned the conversation by asking Emily if she were fond of riding on horseback.

"I used to be very fond of it," she replied, "but I have not been accustomed to the exercise of late."

He asked her to accompany him this evening; with a heightened color she a.s.sented. Mr. Karswell at length rose to go, and Mr. Benson soon followed, though I urged him to stay.

_Sat.u.r.day, September 26th._

Mr. Karswell was called home the very day after his unsuccessful attempt to conceal himself. I was not at all sorry; and I don't believe Mr.

Benson mourns very much.

Emily came in this morning with such a conscious manner, that I knew _something had happened_. She whispered to me to send Pauline away for a moment, when she hid her face in my neck and whispered "Cora, I am very happy."

I was curious and inquisitive; but she would only tell me a word, and that with a great deal of blushing. It seems that yesterday Mr. Benson called when mother was here; and after sitting a few moments perfectly quiet, while she was engaged with her sewing, he took a seat by her side, and taking a note from his pocket-book, which she perceived at a glance was the one she had written him before he went abroad, he said, "Miss Emily, (it was always Miss Lenox before) will you tell me with your usual frankness, if you have ever regretted more than the _manner_ of your decision on a former occasion?"

With the thought of all the suffering caused by her want of frankness, she replied n.o.bly, though with downcast eyes, "I have always regretted the _decision_, as well as the manner of it." She says, she was really frightened at the effect her words had upon him. For one instant he pressed her hand convulsively, and then walked back and forth through the room. She thought, she had been too free and hasty in answering; and a hundred other conjectures came to her mind; but she will not tell how they were solved. She says, if I am so curious, I must apply to head quarters. But this she will say, that she is satisfied, and _very_ happy.

"Well then," I said, "will you please to give me the extract about Mr.

Benson, which you cut out of aunt Morgan's paper? I suppose you have done with it."

Emily looked very rosy. "You deserve to be whipped, Cora," she said, laughing to hide her vexation at my discovery. "You must look out how you behave now, for I have a champion as well as you."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"What is there in the vale of life Half so delightful as a wife; When friendship, love and peace combine To stamp the marriage bond divine?" COWPER.

_Wednesday, November 4th._