rejoiced to find that they were better at heart than I anticipated, and they were pleased to learn that I was worthy of confidence and love.

They now felt more keenly than ever the utter impossibility of any other result but misery, deep and lasting,

from a union between the deacon and mother.

The next day, the presence of my mother was requested in the same room where I had twice been summoned. Our relative positions had changed, for I had now summoned her. She started and became very pale when she saw who were present. I read her thoughts at a glance, and she probably read ours. Lizzy handed her a chair, and asked her to sit down.

"This is a strange proceeding," she remarked; "a formal summons from my own children. What does this mean?"

"We think," said Thomas, with some hesitation, "that we have something of deep and vital importance to say to you,― important to your welfare, and vitally important to ours!"

"I should suppose so by your looks," she replied. "What can be the nature of it? for your course is unusual and strange."

"The mystery will soon be solved, mother. We wish to talk with you of Deacon Webber and yourself," Thomas continued.

"I am ready to hear all you have to offer," she replied.

"The intimacy between you and Deacon Webber has caused us to feel much anxiety for the welfare of the family. Since Mrs. Webber's death, he has called to see you almost every day or evening. What his object is we know not; but we think it must be of a serious character, for of late nearly half of his time is spent with you."

"What is that to you?" she said, biting her lips. "We wish to know whether rumor tells the truth, that you have engaged to marry Deacon Webber."

"Well, supposing I have,- what then?"

"If it is so, mother, or you have any such thought or intention, we beg of you, if not for your own welfare, for the welfare of your children and friends, to pause and reflect. The step once taken, can never be recalled." "I shall not ask my children whether I shall marry or I think I know as well what my.own welfare is as I think I know as well what is for your good. I you. am old enough to take care of myself, and regulate my own affairs; and when I wish for advice, especially from my children, I will let them know it."

not.

"But we beseech you to hear us, and not act hastily in this matter. We do not know that it's your intention to marry Deacon Webber; but, if it is, we feel called upon to utter our most solemn protest against it. We cannot but regard such a step with the deepest abhorrence."

"Pretty children, you are! to talk thus to your

mother. I expected nothing better from Henri, for he has ever thwarted my wishes when in his power. But I did expect different treatment from the rest of you. You are now united to drive me from my purpose; but you shall not succeed. I shall do my duty, in spite of your threats. The salvation of this house may depend

on this union."

"I should think that the word ruin would convey the idea better," I remarked.

'Keep your evil tongue still, Henri ! I have had enough of your impudence already!"

"I merely made the suggestion, thinking that the mistake would be very natural, under the circumstances. We are sure that utter ruin would be the result. We cannot say less than this."

"I shall hear no more from any of you. You are all an ungrateful set; and, instead of giving heed to your wishes, I shall consult my own happiness, and the welfare of those who are leagued against me. Go about your business, every one of you, and don't mention the subject to me again!"

"We have not said a tithe of what we wish to say," remarked Thomas.

"You have said too much, already, and I'll hear no more!" She now left us, shutting the door after her with great violence. Thus it was made plain to us that she had

determined to marry Deacon Webber, and naught that we could do or say would alter her fatal resolution. We all thought it best, after consulting our guardian, to remain at home, for the sake of George and Charlotte, who were too young to leave it.

CHAPTER IX.

THE MARRIAGE AND ITS RESULTS.

THANKSGIVING days in past years had been days of pleasure to us. A number of relatives usually gathered at our house; so that, with good company and good cheer, we regarded the day as our annual jubilee. How different were our feelings this year, as Thanksgiving day approached! It seemed to be shrouded in gloom and misery. I need not tell you that it was the appointed time for the marriage of mother and Deacon Webber. A large company assembled, on the evening of that day, to witness what seemed to me a horrible farce. For a brief period, all went well; but in a few months our home, bad enough before, became a place scarcely endurable. How gloomy, how dark, were those long winter months! It seemed as though they would last forever. At least, our home, I thought, will never know spring-time and summer again.

The deacon came to our house, with his whole family, consisting of two sons and three daughters; and they were worthy of their sire, with the exception of the babe,