not long. She had accustomed herself to view the conduct of others
in that spirit of charity which she desired should be exercised towards
her own, and milder thoughts took the place of these excited feelings.

"Perhaps," said she to herself, "it is, after all, pure kindness that
prompted Mr. Graham's interference. He may think as Emily does, that I
am undertaking too much. It is impossible for him to know how strong my
motives are, how deep I consider my obligations to the Sullivans, and
how much I am needed by them at this time. I had no idea, either, that I
was to be one of the party to the south; for though Emily talked as if
she took it for granted, Mr. Graham never asked me to go, and I could
not suppose it would be any great disappointment to him to refuse; but,
after planning the journey to please us both, I do not wonder at his
being annoyed. He probably feels, too, as if I had been under his
guardianship so long that he has almost a right to decide upon my
conduct. And he _has_ been very indulgent to me--and I a stranger with
no claims! Shall I then decide to give up my teaching, to go to the
south, and leave Mrs. Sullivan to suffer, perhaps die, while I am away?
No, that is impossible. I will never be such a traitor to my own heart,
and my sense of right; sorry as I shall be to offend Mr. Graham, I must
not allow his anger to turn me from my duty."

Having thus resolved to brave the tempest, and committed her cause to
Him who judgeth righteously, Gertrude tried to compose herself to sleep.
Dreams of a painful nature started her back to consciousness. In some of
these visions she beheld Mr. Graham angry, and threatening her with his
displeasure if she dared to thwart his plans; and then she seemed to see
Willie, the same boyish youth from whom she had parted five years
before, beckoning her with a sad countenance to the room where his pale
mother lay in a swoon, as Gertrude had a few weeks before seen her.
Exhausted by such harassing images, she at length gave up the attempt to
obtain any rest, and rising, seated herself at the window, where,
watching the approach of dawn, she found, in quiet self-communing, the
courage which she felt would be requisite to carry her calmly and firmly
through the next day--a day destined to witness her sad separation from
Emily, and her farewell to Mr. Graham, which would probably be more
distressing. The tyrannical disposition of Mr. Graham was well
understood in his family, e