"Try, and remember in your heart _how_ we are here. Bear in your mind that we no longer have the wealth or influence that we once had; and that if we ever are to have them again, depends upon the way we acquit ourselves here. Learn to bear and forbear; and in the end, Arthur, you will come out so brightly, with your pride perhaps subdued, but not conquered, and we shall once more be happy."

Arthur sighed.

"And oh, Arthur! oh, my brother! think, we two are all to each other here. We have nought to lean upon save each other's love and _Him_. Dear Arthur, if you should--if one of us should be led into temptation, and should fall, and should go down into the pit of sin, what a blank would be the existence of the other! Oh! let us pray that our hearts may be bound together, and that no shadow may be allowed to fall upon or divide us."

"Oh, Guly, Guly!"

Arthur started up, and throwing his arms about his brother's form, as he crept up closer to his side, drew the bright head down upon his bosom, and held it there, rocking backwards and forwards where he sat.

"Pray God, indeed!" he murmured, earnestly, lifting his swimming eyes to Heaven, "that I may sin no more. That I may ever keep bright the links of this dear love, which is to us as the thread of life; and oh! may He whose ways are the ways of righteousness, take us by the hand, like little children, and guide our steps aright."

"Amen! Amen!"

CHAPTER X.

_The Merchant at Home._

It was late when Della awoke, and Minny lay with her cheek on her hand, just fallen into her first sleep.

"Minny! Minny!"

"Bernard!" murmured the girl, in her half-disturbed sleep.

"Minny, I say!"

"Yes, Miss."

"Bring me my watch, Min, and show me the hour. Didn't I hear you say 'Bernard,' just now, in your sleep? You haven't any Bernard; that's for me to say."

"No, Miss, I haven't any Bernard."

"Well, then, you shouldn't talk so in your sleep."

"True enough."

"Well, no matter, Minny; it wasn't my Bernard you mean't, I am quite sure. May be you were talking about those priests on that great snowy mountain, somewhere in the world, which you made me so sleepy reading about the other evening?"

"The Monks of St. Bernard, Miss."

"Yes; how droll!"

"Will you get up, Miss Della?"

"Yes; how late, Min? I forgot to look, after all."

"A quarter past nine."

"Papa must have gone."

"He never goes down street before seeing you."

"Dear papa! Minny, wheel my little chair in front of the dressing-glass.

I'll be with you in a second."

"It is ready, Miss."

"There, Min, I left my note under my pillow! Bring it, and let me read it again while you dress my hair."

Minny obeyed.

"Minny, I wonder if it's as delightful to be a wife as it is to have a lover?"

"It seems strange to hear you talking about either, Miss."

"Why, Minny, I am old enough, I am sure."

"Yes, but you seem so very young; no one thinks about your being married yet."

"Mother does."

"Not to this man, Miss Della. For worlds I wouldn't dictate; but, Miss, if all this secresy and deceit ends as it seems it will, isn't it going to break your mother's heart?"

"I expect so, Minny; every mother's heart is broken when her daughter gets married; but it heals up always, and is as good as ever."

Oh! Della, Della!

"But, Miss, when she finds how deceitful you have been, after all her doting kindness, and love, and--"

"Don't be tiresome, Minny. Deceitful! oh, that's awful--you know I never was deceitful."

"No, no! There, don't cry! Call it secresy or anything; but when it is discovered, I say, think what a house of misery this will be."

"Well, Minny, if there's misery it won't be my fault, I'm sure. You know very well that papa wouldn't have me notice Bernard, much more than I would Black Voltaire. If he would, don't you suppose I would be very glad to show him all my letters, and to tell him how we love each other, and all that? But now, if I did, he'd rave, and go into a furious passion, shut me up, maybe, and send Bernard to Europe, or some other horrid place. Oh, I should be frightened to death."

"That's the very thing, Miss; he looks so high for you."

"Bernard is just as high as papa was when he first came here,--but there's another thing; don't you know I'm not allowed to see any one an instant alone, that wears pantaloons? The very instant that a gentleman calls, and says he'd like to see Miss Della, doesn't papa or mamma, or that provoking old governess, march straight into the parlor, and receive them before me? And isn't it very provoking? Why, even little Charley Devans, a boy three years younger than I, called to tell me a little innocent secret his sister had sent by him, and wasn't there mamma, as straight as a marshal, in one chair, and my governess, stiff as my new parasol-top, in the other, and he couldn't say a word? But you know he met me in the street that day you walked out with me, and told me all about it."

"Yes, Miss, but this is all for your good."

"No, Minny, it is all for my hurt. Though, maybe, they don't know it.

Now, don't you see that if young Mr. Devans could have seen me alone but one little minute that day, he wouldn't have planned a clandestine meeting, and so make me do a very naughty thing, by walking alone with him, after having been charged never to walk alone with any gentleman?"

"Yes, Miss."