comfort.

Thus our boy was rapidly progressing in the art of odd jobs and bidding
fair to emulate the fame and usefulness of the eminent professor
himself, when an event occurred in the neighborhood that was destined to
change the direction of his genius.




CHAPTER XX.

NEWS FROM HERMAN.

But that which keepeth us apart is not
Distance, nor depth of wave, nor space of earth,
But the distractions of a various lot,
As various as the climates of our birth.

My blood is all meridian--were it not
I had not left my clime, nor should I be,
In spite of tortures, ne'er to be forgot,
A slave again of love, at least of thee!

--_Byron_.

The life of Berenice was lonely enough. She had perseveringly rejected
the visits of her neighbors, until at length they had taken her at her
word and kept away from her house.