politely were the young ladies received by Mr. Hastings, on their
arrival at Rose Hill, and throughout the entire day their
admiration, both for the place and its owner, increased, though
Eugenia could not conceal from herself the fact, that she stood
very much in fear of the latter, whose keen black eyes seemed to
read her very thoughts. How such a man came to marry Ella Grey,
was to her a puzzle; and if occasionally she harbored the thought
that Eugenia Deane was far better suited to be the mistress of
Howard Hastings's home than the childish creature he had chosen,
she was only guilty of what had, in a similar manner, been done by
more than one New York belle. Dinner being over, Ella led the way
to an upper balcony, which opened from her chamber, and which was
a cool, shaded spot. Scarcely were they seated, when remembering
something she had left in the parlor, she went back for it, and,
in returning, she ran up the stairs so swiftly that a sudden
dizziness came over her, and with a low cry she fell half fainting
into the arms of her husband, who bent tenderly over her, while
Eugenia made many anxious inquiries as to what was the matter, and
if she were often thus affected.

"Yes, often," answered Ella, who began to revive; then, as the
perspiration gathered thickly about the white lips, she pressed
her blue-veined hand upon her side, and cried, "The pain--the
pain! It has come again. Country air won't do me any good. I shall
die of consumption, just as mother said." And as if she saw indeed
the little grave, on which the next summer's sun would shine, she
hid her face in her husband's bosom, and sobbed aloud. Instantly a
dark thought flashed upon Eugenia--a thought which even _she_
would not harbor, and casting it aside, she drew nearer to the
weeping Ella, striving by an increased tenderness of manner to