e effect of the loving emotion
was only to redden the lids, and make the orbs beneath look smaller and
more unbeautiful than before.

For to be born into life with small, inexpressive eyes is like being
born dumb. One may have a heart full of feeling, but the world will not
believe it. Pass on, then, Martha, with your pale little orbs; leave the
feeling to Beatrice with her deep brown glance, to Agnes with her pure
blue gaze, to Isabel with hers of passionate splendor. The world does
not believe you have any especial feelings, poor Martha. Then do not
have them, if you can help it--and pass on.

"I have been thinking deeply," continued Anne, "and I have consulted Dr.
Gaston. He says that I have a good education, but probably an
old-fashioned one; at least the fort ladies told him that it would be so
considered. It seems that what I need is a 'polish of modern
accomplishments.' That is what he called it. Now, to obtain a teacher's
place, I must have this, and I can not obtain it here." She paused; and
then, like one who rides forward on a solitary charge, added, "I am
going to write to Miss Vanhorn."

"A dragon!" said Miss Lois, knitting fiercely. Then added, after a
moment, "A positive demon of pride." Then, after another silence, she
said, sternly, "She broke your mother's heart, Anne Douglas, and she
will break yours."

"I hope not," said the girl, her voice trembling a little; for her
sorrow was still very near the surface. "She is old now, and perhaps
more gentle. At any rate, she is my only living relative, and to her I
must appeal."

"How do you know she is alive? The world would be well rid of such a
wicked fiend," pursued Miss Lois, quoting unconsciously from Anne's
forest Juliet.

"She was living last year, for father spoke of her."

"I did not know he ever spoke of her."

"Only in answer to my questions; for I had found her address, written in
mother's handwriting, in an old note-book. She brought up my mother, you
know, and was once very fond of her."

"So fond of her that she killed her. If poor Alida had not had that
strain upon her, she might have been alive at this day," said Miss Lois.

Anne's self-control left her now, and she began to sob like a child. "Do
not make it harder for me than it is," she said, amid her tears. "I
_must_ ask her; and if she should consent to help me, it will be grief
enough to leave you all, without these cruel memories added. She is old:
who knows but that she ma