of oaks, as if to fan her crimson cheeks; the azalia and magnolia
combined their fragrance, impregnating the dew falling over the
scene, as if to mantle it with beauty. She slept, a picture of
southern beauty; her auburn tresses in undulating richness playing
to and fro upon her swelling bosom,-how developed in all its
delicacy!-her sensitive nature made more lovely by the warmth and
generosity of her heart. Still she slept, her youthful mind
overflowing with joy and buoyancy: about her there was a ravishing
simplicity more than earthly: a blush upon her cheek became
deeper,-it was the blush of love flashing in a dream, that tells its
tale in nervous vibrations, adding enchantment to sleeping
voluptuousness;-and yet all was sacred, an envied object no rude
hand dare touch!

Franconia had been educated at the north, in a land where--God bless
the name--Puritanism is not quite extinct; and through the force of
principles there inculcated had outgrown much of that feeling which
at the south admits to be right what is basely wrong. She hesitated
to reproach Marston with the bad effect of his life, but resolved on
endeavouring to enlist Clotilda's confidence, and learn how far her
degraded condition affected her feelings. She saw her with the same
proud spirit that burned in her own bosom; the same tenderness, the
same affection for her child, the same hopes and expectations for
the future, and its rewards. The question was, what could be done
for Clotilda? Was it better to reason with her,-to, if possible,
make her happy in her condition? Custom had sanctioned many
unrighteous inconsistencies: they were southern, nothing more! She
would intercede with her Uncle, she would have him sign free papers
for Clotilda and her child; she saw a relationship which the law
could not disguise, though it might crush out the natural