and confidence, while Mildred on her part delighted
with and reciprocating her mother's affection, gratified by the
interest her step-father expressed for her, and perfectly enchanted
with the novel and beautiful scenery, threw off all her
sadness--linking the past with the present, not regretful or
sorrowful, but as one continued scene of love and happiness, for which
her heart rose in gratitude to her Maker that he had conferred upon
her so many rich blessings.

How often did she wish that Rupert and Helen could share with her this
West India paradise. The climate so bland and delicious--soft, balmy
airs by day, and nights of unclouded loveliness; the beautiful
undulating scenery of hill and valley stretching far away into the dim
haze of ocean--hills from whose summits towered the magnificent
cabbage-palm, its immense plume-like leaves waving like the crest of
some gigantic warrior above the band of palms crowding around, bending
their graceful heads to this their chief; valleys of luxuriant beauty,
studded with groves of the aromatic pimento, whose pure white blossoms
seem like snow-flakes just fallen amid their dark, glossy foliage,
while at intervals clumps of magnolia, resting on a carpet of bright
verdure sprinkled with flowers, and their trunks garlanded with the
gay passa-flora, arrested the eye. From those beautiful hill-sides
silvery cascades came leaping and dancing down into the rich valleys,
then twining their lovely arms through this charming landscape, as if
they would fain bear off its beauties to the broad ocean, whither they
are gliding.

In the meantime, you may be sure, Perozzi made his appearance at the
Cascade, where, under some slight pretext, he soon became almost
domesticated, merely riding over to the Pen at intervals of two or
three days. To Mildred there was something extremely repulsive in his
appearance, and she could not but feel amazed at the influence he
seemed to exercise over her parents, and the deference with which they
treated him. She little dreamed of the power he would soon exert
against her happiness--just as over those luxuriant valleys, whose
smiling beauty I have but imperfectly sketched, the whirl-wind comes
rushing in terrible might, scattering ruin and devastation around, did
the tempest burst over the head of Mildred, changing all the
brightness of her young life to darkness. Perozzi needed no other
impetus than the sight of Mildred's beauty to render him as eager to