CHAPTER I.
MARK CLIFFORD had come up from New York to spend a few weeks withhis maternal grandfather, Mr. Lofton, who lived almost alone on hisbeautiful estate a few miles from the Hudson, amid the rich valleysof Orange county. Mr. Lofton belonged to one of the oldest familiesin the country, and retained a large portion of that aristocraticpride for which they were distinguished. The marriage of hisdaughter to Mr. Clifford, a merchant of New York, had been stronglyopposed on the ground that the alliance was degrading--Mr. Cliffordnot being able to boast of an ancestor who was anything more than anhonest man and a useful citizen. A closer acquaintance with hisson-in-law, after the marriage took place, reconciled Mr. Lofton ina good measure to the union; for he found Mr. Clifford to be a manof fine intelligence, gentlemanly feeling, and withal, tenderlyattached to his daughter. The marriage was a happy one--and this israrely the case when the external and selfish desire to make a goodfamily connection is regarded above the mental and moral qualitieson which a true union only can be based.
A few years previous to the time at which our story opens, Mrs.Clifford died, leaving one son and two daughters. Mark, the oldestof the children, was in his seventeenth year at the time the sadbereavement occurred--the girls were quite young. He had always beenan active boy--ever disposed to get beyond the judicious restraintswhich his parents wisely sought to throw around him. After hismother's death, he attained a wider liberty. He was still at collegewhen this melancholy event occurred, and continued there for twoyears; but no longer in correspondence with, and therefore not underthe influence of one whose love for him sought ever to hold him backfrom evil, his natural temperament led him into the indulgence of aliberty that too often went beyond the bounds of propriety.
On leaving college Mr. Clifford conferred with his son touching theprofession he wished to adopt, and to his surprise found him bent onentering the navy. All efforts to discourage the idea were of noavail. The young man was for the navy and nothing else. Yielding atlast to the desire of his son, Mr. Clifford entered the usual formof application at the Navy Yard in Washington, but, at the sametime, in a private letter to the Secretary, intimated his wish thatthe application might not be favorably considered.
Time passed on, but Mark did not receive the anxiously looked forappointment. Many reasons were conjectured by the young man, who, atlast, resolved on pushing through his application, if personalefforts could be of any avail. To this end, he repaired to the seatof government, and waited on the Secretary. In his interviews withthis functionary, some expressions were dropped that caused asuspicion of the truth to pass through his mind. A series of rapidlyrecurring questions addressed to the Secretary were answered in away that fully confirmed this suspicion. The effect of this upon theexcitable and impulsive young man will appear as our storyprogresses.
It was while Mark's application was pending, and a short time beforehis visit to Washington, that he came up to Fairview, the residenceof his grandfather. Mark had always been a favorite with the oldgentleman, who rather encouraged his desire to enter the navy.
"The boy will distinguish himself," Mr. Lofton would say, as hethought over the matter. And the idea of distinction in the army ornavy, was grateful to his aristocratic feelings. "There is some ofthe right blood in his veins for all."
One afternoon, some two or three days after the young man came up toFairview, he was returning from a ramble in the woods with his gun,when he met a beautiful young girl, simply attired, and bearing onher head a light bundle of grain which she had gleaned in aneighboring field. She was tripping lightly along, singing as gailyas a bird, when she came suddenly upon the young man, over whoseface there passed an instant glow of admiration. Mark bowed andsmiled, the maiden dropped a bashful courtesy, and then each passedon; but neither to forget the other. When Mark turned, after a fewsteps, to gaze after the sweet wild flower he had met sounexpectedly, he saw the face again, for she had turned also. He didnot go home on that evening, until he had seen the lovely being whoglanced before him in her native beauty, enter a neat little cottagethat stood half a mile from Fairview, nearly hidden by vines, andovershadowed by two tall sycamores.
On the next morning Mark took his way toward the cottage with hisgun. As he drew near, the sweet voice he had heard on the day beforewas warbling tenderly an old song his mother had sung when he wasbut a child; and with the air and words so well remembered, came agentleness of feeling, and a love of what was pure and innocent,such as he had not experienced for many years. In this state of mindhe entered the little porch, and stood listening for several minutesto the voice that still flung itself plaintively or joyfully uponthe air, according to the sentiment breathed in the words that wereclothed in music; then as the voice became silent, he rapped gentlyat the door, which, in a few moments, was opened by the one whoseattractions had drawn him thither.
A warm color mantled the young girl's face as her eyes fell upon sounexpected a visitor. She remembered him as the young man she hadmet on the evening before; about whom she had dreamed all night, andthought much since the early morning. Mark bowed, and, as an excusefor calling, asked if her mother were at home.
"My mother died when I was but a child," replied the girl, shrinkingback a step or two; for Mark was gazing earnestly into her face.
"Ah! Then you are living with your--your--"
"Mrs. Lee has been a mother to me since then," said she, droppingher eyes to the floor.
"Then I will see the good woman who has taken your mother's place."Mark stepped in as he spoke, and took a chair in the neat littlesitting room into which the door opened.
"She has gone over to Mr. Lofton's," said the girl, in reply, "andwon't be back for an hour."
"Has she, indeed? Then you know Mr. Lofton?"
"Oh, yes. We know him very well. He owns our little cottage."
"Does he! No doubt you find him a good landland."
"He's a kind man," said the girl, earnestly.
"He is, as I have good reason to know," remarked the young man. "Mr.Lofton is my grandfather."
The girl seemed much surprised at this avowal, and appeared less atease than before.
"And now, having told you who I am," said Mark, "I think I may bebold enough to ask your name."
"My name is Jenny Lawson," replied the girl.
"A pretty name, that--Jenny--I always liked the sound of it. Mymother's name was Jenny. Did you ever see my mother? But don'ttremble so! Sit down, and tell your fluttering heart to be still."
Jenny sunk into a chair, her bosom heaving, and the crimson flushstill glowing on her cheeks, while Mark gazed into her face withundisguised admiration.
"Who would have thought," said he to himself, "that so sweet a wildflower grew in this out of the way place."
"Did you ever see my mother, Jenny?" asked the young man, after shewas a little composed.
"Mrs. Clifford?"
"Yes."
"Often."
"Then we will be friends from this moment, Jenny. If you knew mymother then, you must have loved her. She has been dead now overthree years."
There was a shade of sadness in the young man's voice as he saidthis.
"When did you see her last?" he resumed.
"The summer before she died she came up from New York and spent twoor three weeks here. I saw her then, almost every day."
"And you loved my mother? Say you did!"
The young man spoke with a rising emotion that he could notrestrain.
"Every body loved her," replied Jenny, simply and earnestly.
For a few moments Mark concealed his face with his hands, to hidethe signs of feeling that were playing over it; then looking upagain, he said--
"Jenny, because you knew my mother and loved her, we must befriends. It was a great loss to me when she died. The greatest lossI ever had, or, it may be, ever will have. I have been worse sincethen. Ah me! If she had only lived!"
Again Mark covered his face with his hands, and, this time, he couldnot keep the dimness from his eyes.
It was a strange sight to Jenny to see the young man thus moved. Herinnocent heart was drawn toward him with a pitying interest, and sheyearned to speak words of comfort, but knew not what to say.
After Mark grew composed again, he asked Jenny a great manyquestions touching her knowledge of his mother; and listened withdeep interest and emotion to many little incidents of Jenny'sintercourse with her, which were related with all the artlessnessand force of truth. In the midst of this singular interview, Mrs.Lee came in and surprised the young couple, who, forgetting allreserve, were conversing with an interest in their manner, theground of which she might well misunderstand. Jenny started andlooked confused, but, quickly recovering herself, introduced Mark asthe grandson of Mr. Lofton.
The old lady did not respond to this with the cordiality that eitherof the young folks had expected. No, not by any means. A flush ofangry suspicion came into her face, and she said to Jenny as shehanded her the bonnet she hurriedly removed--
"Here--take this into the other room and put it away."
The moment Jenny retired, Mrs. Lee turned to Mark, and after lookingat him somewhat sternly for a moment, surprised him with thisspeech--
"If I ever find you here again, young man, I'll complain to yourgrandfather."
"Will you, indeed!" returned Mark, elevating his person, and lookingat the old lady with flashing eyes. "And pray, what will you say tothe old gentleman?"
"Fine doings, indeed, for the likes o' you to come creeping into adecent woman's house when she is away!" resumed Mrs. Lee. "Jenny'snot the kind you're looking after, let me tell you. What would yourpoor dear mother, who is in heaven, God bless her! think, if sheknew of this?"
The respectful and even affectionate reference to his mother,softened the feelings of Mark, who was growing very angry.
"Good morning, old lady," said he, as he turned away; "you don'tknow what you're talking about!" and springing from the door, hehurried off with rapid steps. On reaching a wood that lay at somedistance off, Mark sought a retired spot, near where a quiet streamwent stealing noiselessly along amid its alder and willow-fringedbanks, and sitting down upon a grassy spot, gave himself up tomeditation. Little inclined was he now for sport. The birds sung inthe trees above him, fluttered from branch to branch, and evendipped their wings in the calm waters of the stream, but he heededthem not. He had other thoughts. Greatly had old Mrs. Lee, in theblindness of her suddenly aroused fears, wronged the young man. Ifthe sphere of innocence that was around the beautiful girl had notbeen all powerful to subdue evil thoughts and passions in hisbreast, the reference to his mother would have been effectual tothat end.
For half an hour had Mark remained seated alone, busy, with thoughtsand feelings of a less wandering and adventurous character thanusually occupied his mind, when, to his surprise, he saw JennyLawson advancing along a path that led through a portion of thewoods, with a basket on her arm. She did not observe him until shehad approached within some fifteen or twenty paces; when he arose tohis feet, and she, seeing him, stopped suddenly, and looked pale andalarmed.
"I am glad to meet you again, Jenny," said Mark, going quicklytoward her, and taking her hand, which she yielded withoutresistance. "Don't be frightened. Mrs. Lee did me wrong. Heavenknows I would not hurt a hair of your head! Come and sit down withme in this quiet place, and let us talk about my mother. You say youknew her and loved her. Let her memory make us friends."
Mark's voice trembled with feeling. There was something about thegirl that made the thought of his mother a holier and tendererthing. He had loved his mother intensely, and since her death, hadfelt her loss as the saddest calamity that had, or possibly evercould, befall him. Afloat on the stormy sea of human life, he hadseemed like a mariner without helm or compass. Strangely enough,since meeting with Jenny at the cottage a little while before, thethought of her appeared to bring his mother nearer to him; and when,so unexpectedly, he saw her approaching him in the woods, he feltmomentarily, that it was his mother's spirit guiding her thither.
Urged by so strong an appeal, Jenny suffered herself to be led tothe retired spot where Mark had been reclining, half wondering, halffearful--yet impelled by a certain feeling that she could not wellresist. In fact, each exercised a power over the other, a power notarising from any determination of will, but from a certain spiritualaffinity that neither comprehended. Some have called this "destiny,"but it has a better name.
"Jenny," said Mark, after they were seated--he still retained herhand in his, and felt it tremble--"tell me something about mymother. It will do me good to hear of her from your lips."
The girl tried to make some answer, but found no utterance. Her lipstrembled so that she could not speak. But she grew more composedafter a time, and then in reply to many questions of Mark, relatedincident after incident, in which his mother's goodness of characterstood prominent. The young man listened intently, sometimes with hiseyes upon the ground, and sometimes gazing admiringly into the sweetface of the young speaker.
Time passed more rapidly than either Mark or Jenny imagined. Forfull an hour had they been engaged in earnest conversation, whenboth were painfully surprised by the appearance of Mrs. Lee, who hadsent Jenny on an errand, and expected her early return. A suspicionthat she might encounter young Clifford having flashed through theold woman's mind, she had come forth to learn if possible the causeof Jenny's long absence. To her grief and anger, she discovered themsitting together engaged in earnest conversation.
"Now, Mark Clifford!" she exclaimed as she advanced, "this is toobad! And Jenny, you weak and foolish girl! are you madly bent onseeking the fowler's snare? Child! child! is it thus you repay mefor my love and care over you!"
Both Mark and Jenny started to their feet, the face of the formerflushed with instant anger, and that of the other pale from alarm.
"Come!" and Mrs. Lee caught hold of Jenny's arm and drew her away.As they moved off, the former, glancing back at Mark, and shakingher finger towards him, said--
"I'll see your grandfather, young man!"
Fretted by this second disturbance of an interview with Jenny, andangry at an unjust imputation of motive, Mark dashed into the woods,with his gun in his hand, and walked rapidly, but aimlessly, fornearly an hour, when he found himself at the summit of a highmountain, from which, far down and away towards the east, he couldsee the silvery Hudson winding along like a vein of silver. Here,wearied with his walk, and faint in spirit from over excitement, hesat down to rest and to compose his thoughts. Scarcely intelligibleto himself were his feelings. The meeting with Jenny, and the effectupon him, were things that he did not clearly understand. Herinfluence over him was a mystery. In fact, what had passed sohurriedly, was to him more like a dream than a reality.
No further idea of sport entered the mind of the young man on thatday. He remained until after the sun had passed the meridian in thisretired place, and then went slowly back, passing the cottage ofMrs. Lee on his return. He did not see Jenny as he had hoped. Onmeeting Mr. Lofton, Mark became aware of a change in the old man'sfeelings towards him, and he guessed at once rightly as to thecause. If he had experienced any doubts, they would have beenquickly removed.
"Mark!" said the old gentleman, sternly, almost the moment thegrandson came into his presence, "I wish you to go back to New Yorkto-morrow. I presume I need hardly explain my reason for this wish,when I tell you that I have just had a visit from old Mrs. Lee."
The fiery spirit of Mark was stung into madness by this furtherreaction on him in a matter that involved nothing of criminalintent. Impulsive in his feelings, and quick to act from them, hereplied with a calmness and even sadness in his voice that Mr.Lofton did not expect--the calmness was from a strong effort: thesadness expressed his real feelings:
"I will not trouble you with my presence an hour longer. If evilarise from this trampling of good impulse out of my heart, the sinrest on your own head. I never was and never can be patient under afalse judgment. Farewell, grandfather! We may never meet again. Ifyou hear of evil befalling me, think of it as having some connectionwith this hour."
With these words Mark turned away and left the house. The old man,in grief and alarm at the effect of his words, called after him, buthe heeded him not.
"Run after him, and tell him to come back," he cried to a servantwho stood near and had listened to what had passed between them. Theorder was obeyed, but it was of no avail. Mark returned a bitteranswer to the message he brought him, and continued on his way. Ashe was hurrying along, suddenly he encountered Jenny. It was strangethat he should meet her so often. There was something in it morethan accident, and he felt that it was so.
"God bless you, Jenny!" he exclaimed with much feeling, catchinghold of her hand and kissing it. "We may never meet again. Theythought I meant you harm, and have driven me away. But, Heaven knowshow little of evil purpose was in my heart! Farewell! Sometimes,when you are kneeling to say your nightly prayers, think of me, andbreathe my name in your petitions. I will need the prayers of theinnocent. Farewell!"
And under the impulse of the moment, Mark bent forward and pressedhis lips fervently upon her pure forehead; then, springing away,left her bewildered and in tears.
Mark hurried on towards the nearest landing place on the river, somethree miles distant, which he reached just as a steamboat waspassing. Waving his handkerchief, as a signal, the boat rounded to,and touching at the rude pier, took him on board. He arrived in NewYork that evening, and on the next morning started for Washington tosee after his application for a midshipman's appointment in thenavy. It was on this occasion that the young man became aware of thesecret influence of his father against the application which hadbeen made. His mind, already feverishly excited, lost its balanceunder this new disturbing cause.
"He will repent of this!" said he, bitterly, as he left the room ofthe Secretary of the Navy, "and repent it until the day of hisdeath. Make a fixture of me in a counting room! Shut me up in alawyer's office! Lock me down in a medicine chest! Mark Cliffordnever will submit! If I cannot enter the service in one way I willin another."
Without pausing to weigh the consequences of his act, Mark, in aspirit of revenge towards his father, went, while the fever was onhim, to the Navy Yard, and there entered the United States serviceas a common sailor, under the name of Edward James. On the dayfollowing, the ship on board of which he had enlisted was glidingdown the Potomac, and, in a week after, left Hampton Roads and wentto sea.
From Norfolk, Mr. Clifford received a brief note written by his son,upbraiding him for having defeated the application to thedepartment, and avowing the fact that he had gone to sea in thegovernment service, as a common sailor.
CHAPTER II.
IT was impossible for such passionate interviews, brief though theywere, to take place without leaving on the heart of a simple mindedgirl like Jenny Lawson, a deep impression. New impulses were givento her feelings, and a new direction to her thoughts. Nature toldher that Mark Clifford loved her; and nothing but his cold disavowalof the fact could possibly have affected this belief. He had mether, it was true, only three or four times; but their interviewsduring these meetings had been of a character to leave no ordinaryeffect behind. So long as her eyes, dimmed by overflowing tears,could follow Mark's retiring form, she gazed eagerly after him; andwhen he was at length hidden from her view, she sat down to pour outher heart in passionate weeping.
Old Mrs. Lee, while she tenderly loved the sweet flower that hadgrown up under her care, was not, in all things, a wise and discreetwoman; nor deeply versed in the workings of the human heart.
Rumor of Mark's wildness had found its way to the neighborhood ofFairview, and made an unfavorable impression. Mrs. Lee firmlybelieved that he was moving with swift feet in the way todestruction, and rolling evil under his tongue as a sweet morsel.When she heard of his arrival at his grandfather's, a fear came uponher lest he should cast his eyes upon Jenny. No wonder that she metthe young man with such a quick repulse, when, to her alarm, shefound that he had invaded her home, and was already charming the earof the innocent child she so tenderly loved and cared for. To findthem sitting alone in the woods, only a little while afterwards,almost maddened her; and so soon as she took Jenny home, she hurriedover to Mr. Lofton, and in a confused, exaggerated, and intemperatemanner, complained of the conduct of Mark.
"Together alone in the woods!" exclaimed the old gentleman, greatlyexcited. "What does the girl mean?"
"What does he mean, thus to entice away my innocent child?" saidMrs. Lee, equally excited. "Oh, Mr. Lofton! for goodness' sake, sendhim back to New York! If he remain here a day longer, all may belost! Jenny is bewitched with him. She cried as if her heart wouldbreak when I took her back home, and said that I had done wrong toMark in what I had said to him."
"Weak and foolish child! How little does she know of the world--howlittle of the subtle human heart! Yes--yes, Mrs. Lee, Mark shall goback at once. He shall not remain here a day longer to breathe hisblighting breath on so sweet a flower. Jenny is too good a girl tobe exposed to such an influence."
The mind of Mr. Lofton remained excited for hours after thisinterview; and when Mark appeared, he met him as has already beenseen. The manner in which the young man received the angry words ofhis grandfather, was a little different from what had beenanticipated. Mr. Lofton expected some explanation by which he couldunderstand more clearly what was in the young man's thoughts. When,therefore, Mark abruptly turned from him with such strange languageon his tongue, Mr. Lofton's anger cooled, and he felt that he hadsuffered himself to be misled by a hasty judgment. That no evil hadbeen in the young man's mind he was sure. It was this change thathad prompted him to make an effort to recall him. But, the effortwas fruitless.
On Jenny's return home, after her last interview with Mark, shefound a servant there with a summons from Mr. Lofton. With muchreluctance she repaired to the mansion house. On meeting with theold gentleman he received her in a kind but subdued manner; but, asfor Jenny herself, she stood in his presence weeping and trembling.
"Jenny," said Mr. Lofton, after the girl had grown more composed,"when did you first meet my grandson?"
Jenny mentioned the accidental meeting on the day before, and thecall at the cottage in the morning.
"And you saw him first only yesterday?"
"Yes."
"What did he say when he called this morning?"
"He asked for my mother."
"Your mother?"
"Yes. I told him that my mother was dead, and that I lived with Mrs.Lee. He then wanted to see her; but I said that she had gone over toyour house."
"What did he say then?"
"He spoke of you, and said you were a good man, and that we no doubtfound you a good landlord. I had mentioned that you owned ourcottage."
Mr. Lofton appeared affected at this.
"What then?" he continued.
"He told me who he was, and then asked me my name. When I told himthat it was Jenny, he said, it was a good name, and that he alwaysliked the sound of it, for his mother's name was Jenny. Then heasked me, if I had known his mother, and when I said yes, he wantedto know if I loved her. I said yes--for you know we all loved her.Then he covered his face with his hands, and I saw the tears comingthrough his fingers. 'Because you know my mother, and loved her,Jenny,' said he, 'we will be friends.' Afterwards he asked me agreat many questions about her, and listened with the tears in hiseyes, when I told him of many things she had said and done the lasttime she was up here. We were talking together about his mother,when Mrs. Lee came in. She spoke cross to him, and threatened tocomplain to you, if he came there any more. He went away angry. ButI'm sure he meant nothing wrong, sir. How could he and talk as hedid about his mother in heaven?"
"But, how came you to meet him, in the woods, Jenny?" said Mr.Lofton. "Did he tell you that he would wait there for you?"
"Oh, no, sir. The meeting was accidental. I was sent over to Mrs.Jasper's on an errand, and, in passing through the woods, saw himsitting alone and looking very unhappy. I was frightened; but hetold me that he wouldn't hurt a hair of my head. Then he made me sitdown upon the grass beside him, and talk to him about his mother. Heasked me a great many questions, and I told him all that I couldremember about her. Sometimes the tears would steal over his cheeks;and sometimes he would say--'Ah! if my mother had not died. Herdeath was a great loss to me, Jenny--a great loss--and I have beenworse for it.'"
"And was this all you talked about, Jenny," asked Mr. Lofton, whowas much, affected by the artless narrative of the girl.
"It was all about his mother," replied Jenny. "He said that I notonly bore her name, but that I looked like her, and that it seemedto him, while with me, that she was present."
"He said that, did he!" Mr. Lofton spoke more earnestly, and lookedintently upon Jenny's face. "Yes--yes--it is so. She does look likedear Jenny," he murmured to himself. "I never saw this before. Dearboy! We have done him wrong. These hasty conclusions--ah, me! To howmuch evil do they lead!"
"And you were talking thus, when Mrs. Lee found you?"
"Yes, sir."
"What did she say?"
"I can hardly tell what she said, I was so frightened. But I knowshe spoke angrily to him and to me, and threatened to see you."
Mr. Lofton sighed deeply, then added, as if the remark were casual--
"And that is the last you have seen of him."
"No, sir; I met him a little while ago, as he was hurrying away fromyour house."
"You did!" Mr. Lofton started at Jenny's unexpected reply.
"Yes, sir."
"Did he speak to you?"
"Yes; he stopped and caught hold of my hand, saying, 'God bless you,Jenny! We may never meet again. They have driven me away, becausethey thought I meant to harm you.' But he said nothing wrong was inhis heart, and asked me to pray for him, as he would need myprayers."
At this part of her narrative, Jenny wept bitterly, and herauditor's eyes became dim also.
Satisfied that Jenny's story was true in every particular, Mr.Lofton spoke kindly to her and sent her home.
A week after Mark Clifford left Fairview, word came that he hadenlisted in the United States' service and gone to sea as a commonsailor; accompanying this intelligence was an indignant avowal ofhis father that he would have nothing more to do with him. To oldMr. Lofton this was a serious blow. In Mark he had hoped to seerealized some of his ambitious desires. His daughter Jenny had beenhappy in her marriage, but the union never gave him muchsatisfaction. She was to have been the wife of one moredistinguished than a mere plodding money-making merchant.
Painful was the shock that accompanied the prostration of old Mr.Lofton's ambitious hopes touching his grandson, of whom he hadalways been exceedingly fond. To him he had intended leaving thebulk of his property when he died. But now anger and resentmentarose in his mind against him as unworthy such a preference, and inthe warmth of a moment's impulse, he corrected his will and cut himoff with a dollar. This was no sooner done than better emotionsstirred in the old man's bosom, and he regretted the hasty act; butpride of consistency prevented his recalling it.
From that time old Mr. Lofton broke down rapidly. In six months heseemed to have added ten years to his life. During that period nonews had come from Mark; who was not only angry with both his fatherand grandfather, but felt that in doing what he had done, he hadoffended them beyond the hope of forgiveness. He, therefore, havingtaken a rash step, moved on in the way he had chosen, in a spirit ofrecklessness and defiance. The ties of blood which had bound him tohis home were broken; the world was all before him, and he must makehis way in it alone. The life of a common sailor in a governmentship he found to be something different from what he had imagined,when, acting under a momentary excitement, he was so mad as toenlist in the service. Unused to work or ready obedience, he soondiscovered that his life was to be one not only of bodily toil,pushed sometimes to the extreme of fatigue, but one of the mostperfect subordination to the will of others, under pain of corporealpunishment. The first insolent word of authority passed to him by anew fledged midshipman, his junior by at least three years, stunghim so deeply that it was only by a most violent effort that hecould master the impulse that prompted him to seize and throw himoverboard. He did not regret this successful effort at self-control,when, a few hours afterwards, he was compelled to witness thepunishment of the cat inflicted on a sailor for the offence ofinsolence to an officer. The sight of the poor man, writhing undertile brutality of the lash, made an impression on him that nothingcould efface. It absorbed his mind and brought it into a healthierstate of reflection than it had yet been.
"I have placed myself in this position by a rash act," he said tohimself, as he turned, sick at heart, away from the painful anddisgusting sight. "And all rebellion against the authority around mewill but make plainer my own weakness. I have degraded myself; butthere is a lower degradation still, and that I must avoid. Drag meto the gangway, and I am lost!"
Strict obedience and submission was from that time self-compelled onthe part of Mark Clifford. It was not without a strong effort,however, that he kept down the fiery spirit within him. A word ofinsolent command--and certain of the young midshipmen on board couldnot speak to a senior even if he were old as their father, except ina tone of insult--would send the blood boiling through his veins.
It was only by the narrowest chances that Mark escaped punishmentduring the first six months of the cruise, which was in the Pacific.If he succeeded in bridling his tongue, and restraining his handsfrom violence he could not hide the indignant flash of his eyes, norschool the muscles of his face into submission. They revealed thewild spirit of rebellion that was in his heart. Intelligentpromptness in duty saved him.
This was seen by his superior officers, and it was so much in hisfavor when complaints came from the petty tyrants of the ship whosometimes shrunk from the fierce glance that in a moment ofstruggling passion would be cast upon them. After a trying ordeal ofsix months, he was favored by one of the officers who saw deeperthan the rest; and gathered from him a few hints as to his truecharacter. In pitying him, he made use of his influence to save himfrom some of the worst consequences of his position.
Jenny Lawson was a changed girl after her brief meeting with MarkClifford. Before, she had been as light hearted and gay as a bird.But, her voice was no longer heard pouring forth the sweet melodiesborn of a happy heart. Much of her time she sought to be alone; andwhen alone, she usually sat in a state of dreamy absent-mindedness.As for her thoughts, they were most of the time on Clifford. Hishand had stirred the waters of affection in her gentle bosom; andthey knew no rest. Mr. Lofton frequently sent for her to come overto the mansion house. He never spoke to her of Mark; nor did shemention his name--though both thought of him whenever they weretogether. The oftener Mr. Lofton saw Jenny, and the more he was withher, the more did she remind him of his own lost child--his Jenny,the mother of Mark--now in heaven. The incident of meeting withyoung Clifford had helped to develop Jenny's character, and give ita stronger type than otherwise would have been the case. Thus, shebecame to Mr. Lofton companionable; and, ere a year had elapsed fromthe time Mark went away, Mrs. Lee, having passed to her account, shewas taken into his house, and he had her constantly with him. As hecontinued to fail, he leaned upon the affectionate girl more andmore heavily; and was never contented when she was away from him.
It would be difficult to represent clearly Jenny's state of feelingduring this period. A simple minded, innocent, true-hearted girl, inwhose bosom scarce beat a single selfish impulse, she found herselfsuddenly approached by one in station far above her, in a way thatleft her heart unguarded. He had stooped to her, and leaned uponher, and she, obeying an impulse of her nature, had stood firmer tosupport him as he leaned. Their tender, confiding, and delightfulintercourse, continued only for a brief season, and was then rudelybroken in upon; forced separation was followed by painfulconsequences to the young man. When Jenny thought of how Mark hadbeen driven away on her account, she felt that in order to save himfrom the evils that must be impending over him, she would devoteeven her life in his service. But, what could she do? This desire toserve him had also another origin. A deep feeling of love had beenawakened; and, though she felt it to be hopeless, she kept the flamebrightly burning.
Intense feelings produced more active thoughts, and the mind ofJenny took a higher development. A constant association with Mr.Lofton, who required her to read to him sometimes for hours eachday, filled her thoughts with higher ideas than any she had known,and gradually widened the sphere of her intelligence. Thus she grewmore and more companionable to the old man, who, in turn, perceivingthat her mind was expanding, took pains to give it a rightdirection, so far as external knowledge were concerned.
Soon after Mark went to sea, Jenny took pains to inform herselfaccurately as to the position and duties of a common sailor on boardof a United States' vessel. She was more troubled about Mark afterthis, for she understood how unfitted he was for the hard service heentered upon so blindly.
One day, it was over a year from the time that Mark left Fairview,Mr. Lofton sent for Jenny, and, on her coming into his room, handedher a sealed letter, but without making any remark. On it wassuperscribed her name; and it bore, besides, the word "Ship" in redprinted letters, "Valparaiso," also, was written upon it. Jennylooked at the letter wonderingly, for a moment or two, and then,with her heart throbbing wildly, left the room. On breaking theseal, she found the letter to be from Mark. It was as follows:
"U. S. SHIP----, Valparaiso, September 4, 18--,
"MY GENTLE FRIEND.--A year has passed since our brief meeting andunhappy parting. I do not think you have forgotten me in that time;you may be sure I have not forgotten you. The memory of one aboutwhom we conversed, alone would keep your image green in my thoughts.Of the rash step I took you have no doubt heard. In anger at unjusttreatment both from my father and grandfather, I was weak enough toenter the United States' service as a sailor. Having committed thisfolly, and being unwilling to humble myself, and appeal to friendswho had wronged me for their interest to get me released, I havelooked the hardship and degradation before me in the face, andsought to encounter it manfully. The ordeal has been thus far mostsevere, and I have yet two years of trial before me. As I am where Iam by my own act, I will not complain, and yet, I have felt it hardto be cut off from all the sympathy and kind interest of myfriends--to have no word from home--to feel that none cares for me.I know that I have offended both my father and grandfather pastforgiveness, and my mind is made up to seek for no reconciliationwith them. I cannot stoop to that. I have too much of the blood ofthe Loftons in my veins.
"But why write this to you, Jenny? You will hardly understand howsuch feelings can govern any heart--your own is so gentle andinnocent in all of its impulses. I have other things to say to you!Since our meeting I have never ceased to think of you! I need nopicture of your face, for I see it ever before me as distinctly asif sketched by the painter's art. I sometimes ask myselfwonderingly, how it is that you, a simple country maiden, could, inone or two brief meetings, have made so strong an impression uponme? But, you bore my mother's name, and your face was like her dearface. Moreover, the beauty of goodness was in your countenance, anda sphere of innocence around you; and I had not strayed so far fromvirtue's paths as to be insensible to these. Since we parted, Jenny,you have seemed ever present with me, as an angel of peace andprotection. In the moment when passion was about overmastering me,you stood by my side, and I seemed to hear your voice speaking tothe rising storm, and hushing all into calmness. When my feet havebeen ready to step aside, you instantly approached and pointed tothe better way. Last night I had a dream, and it is because of thatdream that I now write to you. I have often felt like writingbefore; now I write because I cannot help it. I am moved to do so bysomething that I cannot resist.
"Yesterday I had a difficulty with an officer who has shewn adisposition to domineer over me ever since the cruise commenced. Hecomplained to the commander, who has, in more than one instanceshown me kindness. The commander said that I must make certainconcessions to the officer, which I felt as humiliating; that gooddiscipline required this, and that unless I did so, he would bereluctantly compelled to order me to the gangway. Thus far I hadavoided punishment by a strict obedience to duty. No lash had evertouched me. That degradation I felt would be my ruin; and in fear ofthe result I bore much, rather than give any petty officer the powerto have me punished. 'Let me sleep over it, Captain,' said I, soearnestly, that my request was granted.
"Troubled dreams haunted me as I lay in my hammock that night. Atlast I seemed to be afloat on the wide ocean, on a single plank,tossing about with the hot sun shining fiercely upon me, andmonsters of the great deep gathering around, eager for their prey. Iwas weak, faint, and despairing. In vain did my eyes sweep thehorizon, there was neither vessel nor land in sight. At length thesun went down, and the darkness drew nearer and nearer. Then I couldsee nothing but the stars shining above me. In this moment, whenhope seemed about leaving my heart forever, a light came suddenlyaround me. On looking up I saw a boat approaching. In the bow stoodmy mother, and you sat guiding the helm! She took my hand, and Istepped into the boat with a thrill of joy at my deliverance. As Idid so, she kissed me, looked tenderly towards you, and faded frommy sight. Then I awoke.
"The effect of all this was to subdue my haughty spirit. As soon asan opportunity offered, I made every desired concession for myfault, and was forgiven. And now I am writing to you, I feel as ifthere was something in that dream, Jenny. Ah! Shall I ever see yourface again? Heaven only knows!
"I send this letter to you in care of my grandfather. I know that hewill not retain it or seek to know its contents. Unless he shouldask after me, do not speak to him or any one of what I have writtento you. Farewell! Do not forget me in your prayers.
"MARK CLIFFORD."
The effect of this letter upon Jenny, was to interest her intensely.The swell of emotion went deeper, and the activity of her mind tooka still higher character. It was plain to her, when she next cameinto Mr. Lofton's presence, that his thoughts had been busy aboutthe letter she had received. But he asked her no questions, and,faithful to the expressed wish of Mark, she made no reference to thesubject whatever.
One part of Jenny's service to the failing old man, had been to readto him daily from the newspapers. This made her familiar with whatwas passing in the world, gave her food for thought, and helped herto develop and strengthen her mind. Often had she pored over thepapers for some news of Mark, but never having heard the name of thevessel in which he had gone to sea, she had possessed no clue tofind what she sought for. But now, whenever a paper was opened, herfirst search was for naval intelligence.
With what a throb of interest did she one day, about a week afterMark's letter came to hand, read an announcement that the ship ----had been ordered home, and might be expected to arrive daily atNorfolk.
A woman thinks quickly to a conclusion; or, rather, arrives there bya process quicker than thought; especially where her conclusions areto affect a beloved object. In an hour after Jenny had read the factjust stated, she said to Mr. Lofton, who had now come to be muchattached to her--
"Will you grant me a favor?"
"Ask what you will, my child," replied Mr. Lofton, with more thanusual affection in his tones.
"Let me have fifty dollars."
"Certainly. I know you will use it for a good purpose."
Two days after this Jenny was in Washington. She made the journeyalone, but without timidity or fear. Her purpose made herself-possessed and courageous. On arriving at the seat ofgovernment, Jenny inquired for the Secretary of the Navy. When shearrived at the Department over which he presided, and obtained aninterview, she said to him, as soon as she could compose herself--
"The ship ---- has been ordered home from the Pacific?"
"She arrived at Norfolk last night, and is now hourly expected atthe Navy Yard," replied the Secretary.
At this intelligence, Jenny was so much affected that it was sometime before she could trust herself to speak.
"You have a brother on board?" said the Secretary.
"There is a young man on board," replied Jenny, in a tremulousvoice, "for whose discharge I have come to ask."
The Secretary looked grave.
"At whose instance do you come?" he inquired.
"Solely at my own."
"Who is the young man?"
"Do you know Marshal Lofton?"
"I do, by reputation, well. He belongs to a distinguished family inNew York, to which the country owes much for service rendered intrying times."
"The discharge I ask, is for his grandson."
"Young Clifford, do you mean?" The Secretary looked surprised as hespoke. "He is not in the service."
"He is on board the ship ---- as a common sailor."
"Impossible!"
"It is too true. In a moment of angry disappointment he took therash step. And, since then, no communication has passed between himand his friends."
The Secretary turned to the table near which he was sitting, and,after writing a few lines on a piece of paper, rung a smallhand-bell for the messenger, who came in immediately.
"Take this to Mr J----, and bring me an answer immediately."
The messenger left the room, and the Secretary said to Jenny--
"Wait a moment or two, if you please."
In a little while the messenger came back and handed the Secretary amemorandum from the clerk to whom he had sent for information.
"There is no such person as Clifford on board the ship ----, nor, infact, in the service as a common sailor," said the Secretary,addressing Jenny, after glancing at the memorandum he had received.
"Oh, yes, there is; there must be," exclaimed the now agitated girl."I received a letter from him at Valparaiso, dated on board of thisship. And, besides, he wrote home to his father, at the time hesailed, declaring what he had done."
"Strange. His name doesn't appear in the Department as attached tothe service. Hark! There's a gun. It announces, in all probability,the arrival of the ship ---- at the Navy Yard."
Jenny instantly became pale.
"Perhaps," suggested the Secretary, "your best way will be to take acarriage and drive down, at once, to the Navy Yard. Shall I directthe messenger to call a carriage for you?"
"I will thank you to do so," replied Jenny, faintly.
The carriage was soon at the door. Jenny was much agitated when shearrived at the Navy Yard. To her question as to whether the ship---- had arrived, she was pointed to a large vessel which lay mooredat the dock. How she mounted its side she hardly knew; but, in whatseemed scarcely an instant of time, she was standing on the deck. Toan officer who met her, as she stepped on board, she asked for MarkClifford.
"What is he? A sailor or marine?"
"A sailor."
"There is no such person on board, I believe," said the officer.
Poor Jenny staggered back a few paces, while a deadly palenessoverspread her face. As she leaned against the side of the vesselfor support, a young man, dressed as a sailor, ascended from thelower deck. Their eyes met, and both sprung towards each other.
"Jenny! Jenny! is it you!" fell passionately from his lips, as hecaught her in his arms, and kissed her fervently. "Bless you! Blessyou, Jenny! This is more than I had hoped for," he added, as hegazed fondly into her beautiful young face.
"They said you were not here," murmured Jenny, "and my heart was indespair."
"You asked for Mark Clifford?"
"Yes."
"I am not known in the service by that name. I entered it as EdwardJames."
This meeting, occurring as it did, with many spectators around, andthey of the ruder class, was so earnest and tender, yet with all, somutually respectful and decorous, that even the rough sailors weretouched by the manner and sentiment of the interview; and mole thanone eye grew dim.
Not long did Jenny linger on the deck of the ----. Now that she hadfound Mark, her next thought was to secure his discharge.
CHAPTER III.
IT was little more than half an hour after the Secretary of the Navyparted with Jenny, ere she entered his office again; but now withher beautiful face flushed and eager.
"I have found him!" she exclaimed; "I knew he was on board thisship!"
The Secretary's interest had been awakened by the former briefinterview with Jenny, and when she came in with the announcement, hewas not only affected with pleasure, but his feelings were touchedby her manner. "How is it, then," he inquired, "that his name is notto be found in the list of her crew?"
"He entered the service under the name of Edward James."
"Ah! that explains it."
"And now, sir," said Jenny, in a voice so earnest and appealing,that her auditor felt like granting her desire without a moment'sreflection: "I have come to entreat you to give me his release."
"On what ground do you make this request?" inquired the Secretary,gazing into the sweet young face of Jenny, with a feeling of respectblended with admiration.
"On the ground of humanity," was the simple yet earnestly spokenreply.
"How can you put it on that ground?"
"A young man of his education and abilities can serve society betterin another position."
"But he has chosen the place he is in."
"Not deliberately. In a moment of disappointment and blind passionhe took a false step. Severely has he suffered for this act. Let itnot be prolonged, lest it destroy him. One of his spirit canscarcely pass through so severe an ordeal without fainting."
"Does Mr. Lofton, his grandfather, desire what you ask?"
"Mr. Lofton is a proud man. He entertained high hopes for Mark, whohas, in this act, so bitterly disappointed them, that he has notbeen known to utter his name since the news of his enlistment wasreceived."
"And his father?"
Jenny shook her head, sighing--
"I don't know anything about him. He was angry, and, I believe, casthim off."
"And you, then, are his only advocate?"
Jenny's eyes dropped to the floor, and a deeper tinge overspread hercountenance.
"What is your relation to him, and to his friends?" asked theSecretary, his manner becoming more serious.
It was some moments before Jenny replied. Then she said, in a moresubdued voice:
"I am living with Mr. Lofton. But--"
She hesitated, and then became silent and embarrassed.
"Does Mr. Lofton know of your journey to Washington?"
Jenny shook her head.
"Where did you tell him you were going?"
"I said nothing to him, but came away the moment I heard the shipwas expected to arrive at Norfolk."
"Suppose I release him from the service?"
"I will persuade him to go back with me to Fairview, and then I knowthat all will be forgiven between him and his grandfather. You don'tknow how Mr. Lofton has failed since Mark went away," added Jenny ina tone meant to reach the feelings of her auditor.
"He looks many years older. Ah, sir, if you would only grant myrequest!"
"Will the young man return to his family! Have you spoken to himabout it?"
"No; I wished not to create hopes that might fail. But give me hisrelease, and I will have a claim on him."
"And you will require him to go home in acknowledgment of thatclaim."
"I will not leave him till he goes back," said Jenny.
"Is he not satisfied in the service?"
"How could he be satisfied with it?" Jenny spoke with a quickimpulse, and with something like rebuke in her voice. "No! It iscrushing out his very life. Think of your own son in such aposition!"
There was something in this appeal, and in the way it was uttered,that decided the Secretary's mind. A man of acute observation, andhumane feelings, he not only understood pretty clearly the relationthat Jenny bore to Mark and his family, but sympathised with theyoung man and resolved to grant the maiden's request. Leaving herfor a few minutes, he went into an adjoining room. When he returned,he had a sealed letter in his hand directed to the commander of theship ----.
"This will procure his dismissal from the service," said he, as hereached it towards Jenny.
"May heaven reward you!" fell from the lips of the young girl, asshe received the letter. Then, with the tears glistening in hereyes, she hurriedly left the apartment.
While old Mr. Lofton was yet wondering what Jenny could want withfifty dollars, a servant came and told him that she had just heardfrom a neighbor who came up a little while before from the landing,that he had seen Jenny go on board of a steamboat that was on itsway to New York.
"It can't be so," quickly answered Mr. Lofton.
"Mr. Jones said, positively, that it was her."
"Tell Henry to go to Mr. Jones and ask him, as a favor, to step overand see me."
In due time Mr. Jones came.
"Are you certain that you saw Jenny Lawson go on board the steamboatfor New York to-day?" asked Mr. Lofton, when the neighbor appeared.
"Oh, yes, sir; it was her," replied the man.
"Did you speak to her?"
"I was going to, but she hurried past me without looking in myface."
"Had she anything with her?"
"There was a small bundle in her hand."
"Strange--strange--very strange," murmured the old man to himself."What does it mean? Where can she have gone?"
"Did she say nothing about going away?"
"Nothing--nothing!"
Mr. Lofton's eyes fell to the floor, and he sat thinking for somemoments.
"Mr. Jones," said he, at length, "can you go to New York for me?"
"I suppose so," replied Mr. Jones.
"When will the morning boat from Albany pass here?"
"In about two hours."
"Then get yourself ready, if you please, and come over to me. I donot like this of Jenny, and must find out where she has gone."
Mr. Jones promised to do as was desired, and went to make allnecessary preparations. Before he returned, a domestic brought Mr.Lofton a sealed note bearing his address, which she had found inJenny's chamber. It was as follows:
"Do not be alarmed at my telling you that, when you receive this, Iwill be on a journey of two or three hundred miles in extent, andmay not return for weeks. Believe me, that my purpose is a good one.I hope to be back much sooner than I have said. When I do get home,I know you will approve of what I have done. My errand is one ofMercy.
"Humbly and faithfully yours, JENNY."
It was some time before Mr. Lofton's mind grew calm and clear, afterreading this note. That Jenny's absence was, in some way, connectedwith Mark, was a thought that soon presented itself. But, in whatway, he could not make out; for he had never heard the name of theship in which his grandson sailed, and knew nothing of her expectedarrival home.
By the time Mr. Jones appeared, ready to start on the proposedmission to New York, Mr. Lofton had made up his mind not to attemptto follow Jenny, but to wait for some word from her. Not until thissudden separation took place did Mr. Lofton understand how necessaryto his happiness the affectionate girl had become. So troubled washe at her absence, and so anxious for her safety, that when nightcame he found himself unable to sleep. In thinking about the dangersthat would gather around one so ignorant of the world, hisimagination magnified the trials and temptations to which, alone asshe was, she would be exposed. Such thoughts kept him tossinganxiously upon his pillow, or restlessly pacing the chamber flooruntil day dawn. Then, from over-excitement and loss of rest, he wasseriously indisposed--so much so, that his physician had to becalled in during the day. He found him with a good deal of fever,and deemed it necessary to resort to depletion, as well as to theapplication of other remedies to allay the over-action of his vitalsystem. These prostrated him at once--so much so, that he was unableto sit up. Before night he was so seriously ill that the physicianhad to be sent for again. The fever had returned with greatviolence, and the pressure on his brain was so great that he hadbecome slightly delirious.
During the second night, this active stage of the disease continued;but all the worst symptoms subsided towards morning. Daylight foundhim sleeping quietly, with a cool moist skin, and a low, regularpulse. Towards mid-day he awoke; but the anxiety that came withthought brought back many of the unfavorable symptoms, and he wasworse again towards evening. On the third day he was again better,but so weak as to be unable to sit up.
How greatly did old Mr. Lofton miss the gentle girl, who had becomealmost as dear to him as a child, during this brief illness, broughton by her strange absence. No hand could smooth his pillow likehers. No presence could supply her place by his side. He wascompanionless, now that she was away; and his heart reached vainlyaround for something to lean upon for support.
On the fourth day he was better, and sat up a little. But hisanxiety for Jenny was increasing. Where could she be? He read herbrief letter over and over again.
"May not return for weeks," he said, as he held the letter in hishand. "Where can she have gone? Foolish child! Why did she notconsult with me? I would have advised her for the best."
Late on the afternoon of that day, Jenny, in company with Mark, thelatter in the dress of a seaman in the United States service, passedfrom a steamboat at the landing near Fairview, and took their waytowards the mansion of Mr. Lofton. They had not proceeded far,before the young man began to linger, while Jenny showed everydisposition to press on rapidly. At length Mark stopped.
"Jenny," said he, while a cloud settled on his face, "you've hadyour own way up to this moment. I've been passive in your hands. ButI can't go on with you any further."
"Don't say that," returned Jenny, her voice almost imploring in itstones. And in the earnestness of her desire to bring Mark back tohis grandfather, she seized one of his hands, and, by a gentleforce, drew him a few paces in the direction they had been going.But he resisted that force, and they stood still again.
"I don't think I can go back, Jenny," said Mark, in a subdued voice:"I have some pride left, much as has been crushed out of me duringthe period of my absence, and this rises higher and higher in myheart the nearer I approach my grandfather. How can I meet him!"
"Only come into his presence, Mark," urged Jenny, speaking tenderlyand familiarly. She had addressed him as Mr. Clifford, but he hadforbidden that, saying--
"To you my name is Mark--let none other pass your lips!"
"Only come into his presence. You need not speak to him, nor looktowards him. This is all I ask."
"But, the humiliation of going back after my resentment of hisformer treatment," said Mark. "I can bear anything but this bendingof my pride--this humbling of myself to others."
"Don't think of yourself, Mark," replied Jenny. "Think of yourgrandfather, on whom your absence has wrought so sad a change. Thinkof what he must have suffered to break down so in less than twoyears. In pity to him, then, come back. Be guided by me, Mark, and Iwill lead you right. Think of that strange dream!"
At this appeal, Mark moved quickly forward by the side of thebeautiful girl, who had so improved in every way--mind and bodyhaving developed wonderfully since he parted with her--that he wasfilled all the while by wonder, respect and admiration. He moved byher side as if influenced by a spell that subdued his own will.
In silence they walked along, side by side, the pressure of thoughtand feeling on each mind being so strong as to take away the desireto speak, until the old mansion house of Mr. Lofton appeared inview. Here Mark stopped again; but the tenderly uttered "Come," andthe tearful glance of Jenny, effectually controlled the promptingsof an unbroken will. Together, in a few minutes afterwards, theyapproached the house and entered.
"Where is Mr. Lofton?" asked Jenny of a servant who met them in thegreat hall.
"He's been very ill," replied the servant.
"Ill!" Jenny became pale.
"Yes, very ill. But he is better now."
"Where is he?"
"In his own chamber."
For a moment Jenny hesitated whether to go up alone, or in companywith Mark. She would have preferred going alone; but fearing that,if she parted even thus briefly from Mark, her strong influence overhim, by means of which she had brought him, almost as a strugglingprisoner, thus far, would be weakened, and he tempted to turn fromthe house, she resolved to venture upon the experiment of enteringMr. Lofton's sick chamber, in company with his grandson.
"Is he sitting up?" she asked of the servant.
"He's been sitting up a good deal to-day, but is lying down now."
"He's much better?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Come," said Jenny, turning to Mark, and moving towards thestairway. Mark followed passively. On entering the chamber of Mr.Lofton, they found him sleeping.
Both silently approached, and looked upon his venerable face,composed in deep slumber. Tears came to the eyes of Mark as he gazedat the countenance of his grandfather, and his heart became soft asthe heart of a child. While they yet stood looking at him, his lipsmoved, and he uttered both their names. Then he seemed disturbed,and moaned, as if in pain.
"Grandfather!" said Mark, taking the old man's hand, and bendingover him.
Quickly his eyes opened. For a few moments he gazed earnestly uponMark, and then tightened his hand upon that of the young man, closedhis eyes again, and murmured in a voice that deeply touched thereturning wanderer--
"My poor boy! My poor boy! Why did you do so? Why did you break myheart? But, God be thanked, you are back again! God be thanked!"
"Jenny!" said the old man, quickly, as he felt her take his otherhand and press it to her lips. "And it was for this you left me!Dear child, I forgive you!"
As he spoke, he drew her hand over towards the one that grasped thatof Mark, and uniting them together, murmured--
"If you love each other, it is all right. My blessing shall go withyou."
How mild and delicious was the thrill that ran through each of thehearts of his auditors. This was more than they expected. Marktightly grasped the hand that was placed within his own, and thathand gave back an answering pressure. Thus was the past reconciledwith the present; while a vista was opened toward a bright future.
Little more than a year has passed since this joyful event tookplace. Mark Clifford, with the entire approval of his grandfather,who furnished a handsome capital for the purpose, entered, duringthe time, into the mercantile house of his father as a partner, andis now actively engaged in business, well sobered by his severeexperience. He has taken a lovely bride, who is the charm of allcircles into which she is introduced; and her name is Jenny. But fewwho meet her dream that she once grew, a beautiful wild flower, nearthe banks of the Hudson.
Old Mr. Lofton could not be separated from Jenny; and, as he couldnot separate her from her husband, he has removed to the city, wherehe has an elegant residence, in which her voice is the music and hersmiles the ever present sunshine.
THE END.
* * * * * * * * * * * *