continued between them--he thoughtful and assiduous, and she cold,
and for the most part silent. But, to her babe, the young mother was
passionate at times in her loving demonstrations. The pent up waters
of feeling gave way in this direction, and poured themselves out,
often, in a rushing flood. Towards all others she bore herself with
a calm, sweet dignity of manner, that captivated the heart, and made
it sigh for a better acquaintance with one around whom mystery had
hung a veil that no hand but her own could push aside--and that hand
was never lifted.

The next event in the Allen House, noted by the people, was the
birth of a daughter. The same nurse was called in, who remained the
usual time, and then retired; bearing with her a history of the
period, which she related, very confidentially, at tea-tables, and
in familiar gossip with choice spirits of her own.

Those who knew her best, were always something in doubt as to which
of her stories contained truth and which romance. The latter element
mingled largely, it is presumed, in all of them.

A great change had taken place in the Captain's manner. He no longer
played the lover to a cold and distant mistress, but carried himself
haughtily at times--captiously at times--and always with an air of
indifference. All affection seemed transferred to his boy, who was
growing self-willed, passionate, and daring. These qualities were
never repressed by his father, but rather encouraged and
strengthened. On learning that his next heir was a daughter, he
expressed impatience, and muttered something about its being
strangled at birth. The nurse said that he never deigned even to
look at it while she was in the house.