m
all, especially her mother, whose tender heart was ever ready to bleed for
another's woe, and who had already griefs and anxieties enough of her own.

They spoke of her with tenderest compassion, and affectionate pride in her
loveliness of person and character, and her brave endurance of her trial.

Enna's death could hardly be felt as a personal loss by either, but they
sympathized deeply in the grief of her old father, with whom her faults
seemed to be buried in her grave, while he cherished a lively remembrance
of all that had ever given him pleasure in her looks, words, or ways.

He was growing old and feeble, and felt this, the death of his youngest
child, a very heavy blow.

"My poor old father! I fear we shall not have him with us much longer,"
Mr. Dinsmore remarked with emotion.

Elsie's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Dear old grandpa!" she
murmured. "But, dear papa, be comforted! he may live for years yet, and
should it please God to take him, we know that our loss will be his
infinite gain."

"Yes; would that we had the same assurance in regard to all his children
and grandchildren."

Silence fell between them for some minutes.

Elsie knew that her father, when making that last remark, was thinking
more particularly of his half sister, Mrs. Conly, and her daughter
Virginia.

The two had gone to a fashionable watering-place to spend the last
fortnight of their summer's sojourn at the North, and ere it expired
Virginia had contracted a hasty marriage with a man of reputed wealth,
whom she met there for the first time.

The match was made with the full consent and approval of her mother--who,
on rejoining the Dinsmores and Travillas, boasted much of "Virginia's
brilliant position and prospects"--but without the knowledge of any other
relative. No opportunity of making inquiries about the character or real
circumstances of the stranger to whom she committed the happiness of her
life, was afforded by Virginia to grandfather, uncle or brothers.

Of late Mrs. Conly had ceased to boast of the match--scarcely mentioned
Virginia's name; and Mr. Dinsmore had learned from Calhoun and Arthur that
Virginia's letters were no longer shown to any one, and seemed to irritate
and depress their mother so unmistakably that they feared more and more
there was something very much amiss with their sister; yet the mother
steadily evaded all inquiries on the subject.

Mr. Dinsmore presently told all this to his daug