at the North. There she can become a teacher and take care of herself.” Madame Labassé smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Nous verrons.” She did not believe it.
The years glided on, and all went prosperously with the young merchant. Through various conflicts with himself, his honorable resolution remained unbroken. Loo Loo was still his sister. She had become completely entwined with his existence. Life would have been very dull without her affectionate greetings, her pleasant little, songs, and the graceful dances she had learned to perform so well. Sometimes, when he had passed a peculiarly happy evening in this fashion, Madame Labassé would look mischievous, and say, "But when do you think you shall send her to that school?” True, she did not often repeat this experiment; for whenever she did it, the light went out of his countenance, as if an extinguisher were placed upon his soul. “I ought to do it,” he said within himself; "but how can I live without her?” The French widow was the only person aware how romantic and how serious was this long episode in his life. Some gentlemen, whom lie frequently met in business relations, knew that he had purchased a young slave, whom he had placed with a French woman to be educated; but had he told them the true state of the case, they would have smiled incredulously. Occasionally, they uttered some joke about the fascination which made him so indifferent to cards and horses; but the reserve with which he received such jests checked conversation on the subject, and all, except Mr. Grossman, discontinued such attacks, after one or two experiments.
As Mr. Noble’s wealth increased, the wish grew stronger to place Louisa in the midst of as much elegance as had surrounded her in childhood. When the house at Pine Grove was unoccupied, they often went out there, and it was his delight to see her stand under the Gothic arch of trees, a beautiful tableau vivant, framed in vines. It was a place so full of heart-memories to her, that she always lingered there as long as possible, and never left it without a sigh. In one place was a tree her father had planted, in another a rose or a jessamine her mother had trained. But dearest of all was a recess among the pine-trees, on the side of a hill. There was a rustic garden-chair, where her father had often sat with her upon his knee, reading wonderful story-hooks, bought for her on his summer excursions to New York or Boston. In one of her visits with Alfred, she sat there and read aloud from “ Lalla Rookh.” It was a mild winter day. The sunlight came mellowed through the evergreens, a soft carpet of scarlet foliage was thickly strewn beneath their feet, and the air was redolent of the balmy breath of pines. Fresh and happy in the glow of her fifteen summers, how could she otherwise than enjoy the poem? It was like sparkling wine in a jewelled goblet. Never before had she read anything aloud in tones so musically modulated, so full of feeling. And the listener? How worked the wine in him? A voice within said, “Remember your vow, Alfred! this charming Loo Loo is your adopted sister”; and lie tried to listen to the warning. She did not notice his tremor, when he rose hastily and said, “ The sun is nearly setting. It is time for my sister to go home.”
“Home?” she repeated, with a sigh. “This is my home. I wish I could stay here always. I feel as if the spirits of my father and mother were with us here.” Had she sighed for an ivory palace inlaid with gold, he would have wished to give it to her,—lie was so much in love!
A few months afterward, Fine Grove was offered for sale. He resolved to purchase it, and give her a pleasant surprise by restoring her to her old home, on her sixteenth birth-day. Madame Labassé, who greatly delighted in managing mysteries, zealously aided in the preparations. When the day arrived, Alfred proposed a long ride with Loo Loo, in honor of the anniversary; and during their ab-
