, found among my father's
papers, who nursed his children and understood his nature, and always
kept her faith in him. There must be a great many more who do the same,
and she will be sure to know them and introduce me to them; and I shall
be guided by their advice."

"But suppose that this excellent woman is dead, or not to be found, or
has changed her opinion?"

"Her opinion she never could change. But if she is not to be found, I
shall find her husband, or her children, or somebody; and besides that,
I have a hundred things to do. I have the address of the agent through
whom my father drew his income, though Uncle Sam let me know as little
as he could. And I know who his bankers were (when he had a bank), and
he may have left important papers there."

"Come, that looks a little more sensible, my dear; bankers may always
be relied upon. And there may be some valuable plate, Erema. But why not
let the Major go with you? His advice is so invaluable."

"I know that it is, in all ordinary things. But I can not have him
now, for a very simple reason. He has made up his mind about my dear
father--horribly, horribly; I can't speak of it. And he never changes
his mind; and sometimes when I look at him I hate him."

"Erema, you are quite a violent girl, although you so seldom show it.
Is the whole world divided, then, into two camps--those who think as you
wish and those who are led by their judgment to think otherwise? And are
you to hate all who do not think as you wish?"

"No, because I do not hate you," I said; "I love you, though you do not
think as I wish. But that is only because you think your husband must be
right of course. But I can not like those who have made up their minds
according to their own coldness."

"Major Hockin is not cold at all. On the contrary, he is a warm-hearted
man--I might almost say hot-hearted."

"Yes, I know he is. And that makes it ten times worse. He takes up every
body's case--but mine."

"Sad as it is, you almost make me smile," my hostess answered, gravely;
"and yet it must be very bitter for you, knowing how just and kind
my husband is. I am sure that you will give him credit for at least
desiring to take your part. And doing so, at least you might let him go
with you, if only as a good protection."

"I have no fear of any one; and I might take him into society that he
would not like. In a good cause he would go any where, I know. But in my
cause, of course he would be scrup