th the fangs of an adder. I wondered whether
it were possible that Hollingsworth could have watched by my bedside,
with all that devoted care, only for the ulterior purpose of making me
a proselyte to his views!

VIII. A MODERN ARCADIA

May-day--I forget whether by Zenobia's sole decree, or by the unanimous
vote of our community--had been declared a movable festival. It was
deferred until the sun should have had a reasonable time to clear away
the snowdrifts along the lee of the stone walls, and bring out a few of
the readiest wild flowers. On the forenoon of the substituted day,
after admitting some of the balmy air into my chamber, I decided that
it was nonsense and effeminacy to keep myself a prisoner any longer.
So I descended to the sitting-room, and finding nobody there, proceeded
to the barn, whence I had already heard Zenobia's voice, and along with
it a girlish laugh which was not so certainly recognizable. Arriving
at the spot, it a little surprised me to discover that these merry
outbreaks came from Priscilla.

The two had been a-maying together. They had found anemones in
abundance, houstonias by the handful, some columbines, a few
long-stalked violets, and a quantity of white everlasting flowers, and
had filled up their basket with the delicate spray of shrubs and trees.
None were prettier than the maple twigs, the leaf of which looks like a
scarlet bud in May, and like a plate of vegetable gold in October.
Zenobia, who showed no conscience in such matters, had also rifled a
cherry-tree of one of its blossomed boughs, and, with all this variety
of sylvan ornament, had been decking out Priscilla. Being done with a
good deal of taste, it made her look more charming than I should have
thought possible, with my recollection of the wan, frost-nipt girl, as
heretofore described. Nevertheless, among those fragrant blossoms, and
conspicuously, too, had been stuck a weed of evil odor and ugly aspect,
which, as soon as I detected it, destroyed the effect of all the rest.
There was a gleam of latent mischief--not to call it deviltry--in
Zenobia's eye, which seemed to indicate a slightly malicious purpose in
the arrangement.

As for herself, she scorned the rural buds and leaflets, and wore
nothing but her invariable flower of the tropics.

"What do you think of Priscilla now, Mr. Coverdale?" asked she,
surveying her as a child does its doll. "Is not she worth a verse or
two?"

"There is only one thin