per still. He made no reply. Mrs. White continued,--

"I wish you could see your face. It is almost purple now."

"It is enough to make the blood mount to any man's face, mother, to be
accused so," replied Stephen, with a spirit unusual for him.

"I don't accuse you of any thing," she retorted. "I am only speaking of
what I observe. You needn't think you can deceive me about the least
thing, ever. Your face is a perfect tell-tale of your thoughts, always."

Poor Stephen groaned inwardly. Too well he knew his inability to control
his unfortunate face.

"Mother!" he exclaimed with almost vehemence of tone, "mother! do not
carry this thing too far. I do not in the least understand what you are
driving at about Mrs. Philbrick, nor why you show these capricious changes
of feeling towards her. I think you have treated her so to-day that she
will never darken your doors again. I never should, if I were in her
place."

"Very well, I hope she never will, if her presence is to produce such an
effect on you. It is enough to turn her head to see that she has such
power over a man like you. She is a very vain woman, anyway,--vain of her
power over people, I think."

Stephen could bear no more. With a half-smothered ejaculation of "O
mother!" he left the room.

And thus the old year went out and the new year came in for Mercy
Philbrick and Stephen White,--the old year in which they had been nothing,
and the new year in which they were to be every thing to each other.

Chapter VII.

The next morning, while Stephen was dressing, he slowly reviewed the
events of the previous day, and took several resolutions. If Mrs. White
could have had the faintest conception of what was passing in her son's
mind, while he sat opposite to her at breakfast, so unusually cheerful and
talkative, she would have been very unhappy. But she, too, had had a
season of reflection this morning, and was much absorbed in her own plans.
She heartily regretted having shown so much ill-feeling in regard to
Mercy; and she had resolved to atone for it in some way, if she could.
Above all, she had resolved, if possible, to banish from Stephen's mind
the idea that she was jealous of Mercy or hostile towards her. She had
common sense enough to see that to allow him to recognize this feeling on
her part was to drive him at once into a course of manoeuvring and
concealment. She flattered herself that it was with a wholly natural and
easy air that she be