f it had been an infant's; and, as she
walked away, he heard her laugh with a degree of savage bitterness
that stabbed his generous heart like a dagger; while behind her
trailed the hissing echo,--

... "Oh, alone, alone,--
Not troubling any in heaven, nor any on earth."

CHAPTER XXIII.

In the pure, clear light of early morning, "Grassmere," with its wide,
smooth lawn, and old-fashioned brick house, weather-stained and
moss-mantled, looked singularly peaceful and attractive. Against the
sombre mass of tree-foliage, white and purple altheas raised their
circular censers, as if to greet the sun that was throwing level beams
from the eastern hill-top, and delicate pink, and deep azure, and
pearl-pale convolvulus held up their velvet trumpets all beaded with
dew, to be drained by the first kiss of the great Day-God. Up and down
the comb of the steep roof, beautiful pigeons with necklaces that
rivalled the trappings of Solomon, strutted and cooed; on the eaves,
busy brown wrens peeped into the gutters,--

"And of the news delivered their small souls,"--

gossiping industriously; while from a distant nook some vagrant
partridge whistled for its mate, and shy doves swinging in the highest
elm limbs, moaned plaintively of the last hunting-season, that had
proved a St. Barthlomew's day to the innocent feathered folk.

On the lawn a flock of turkeys were foraging among the clover-blossoms,
and over the dewy grass a large brood of young guineas raced after
their mother, or played hide-and-seek, like nut-brown elves, under
the white and purple tufts of flowers. Save the bird-world--always
abroad early--no living thing seemed astir, and the silence that
reigned was broken only by the distance-softened bleating of
Stanley's pet lamb.

As Salome walked slowly and wearily up the avenue, she saw that the
housemaid had opened the front door, and when the orphan ascended the
steps, all within was still as a tomb, except the canary that sprang
into its ring and began to warble a _reveille_ as she approached the
cage. Miss Jane was usually an early riser, and often aroused her
servants, but to-day the household seemed to have overslept
themselves, and when Salome had rearranged her dress, and waked her
little brother, she rang the bell for Rachel, who soon obeyed the
summons.

"Is Miss Jane up?"

"No, ma'am, I suppose not, as she has not rung for me. You know I
always wait for her bell."

"Perhaps s