The triumph of faith shone in her kindled eyes, though glittering

drops fell on the ivory keys, and the whole countenance bespoke a

heart resting in the love of the Father. While her fingers still

rolled waves of melody through the room, Dr. Hartwell entered, with

a parcel in one hand and a magnificent cluster of greenhouse flowers

in the other. He laid the latter before Beulah, and said: "I want you to go with me to-night to hear Sontag. The concert

commences at eight o'clock, and you have no time to spare. Here are

some flowers for your hair; arrange it as you have it now; and here,

also, a pair of white gloves. When you are ready, come down and make

my tea."

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"Thank you, sir, for remembering me so kindly, and supplying all my

wants so--"

"Beulah, there are tears on your lashes. What is the matter?"

interrupted the doctor, pointing to the drops which had fallen on

the rosewood frame of the melodeon.

"Is it not enough to bring tears to my eyes when I think of all your

kindness?" She hurried away without suffering him to urge the

matter.

The prospect of hearing Sontag gave her exquisite pleasure, and she

dressed with trembling eagerness, while Harriet leaned on the bureau

and wondered what would happen next. Except to attend church and

visit Clara and Mrs. Williams, Beulah had never gone out before; and

the very seclusion in which she lived rendered this occasion one of

interest and importance. As she took her cloak and ran downstairs

the young heart throbbed violently. Would her fastidious guardian be

satisfied with her appearance? She felt the blood gush over her face

as she entered the room; but he did not look at her, continued to

read the newspaper he held, and said, from behind the extended

sheet: "I will join you directly."

She poured out the tea with an unsteady hand. Dr. Hartwell took his

silently; and, as both rose from the table, handed her a paper,

saying: "The carriage is not quite ready yet. There is a programme."

As she glanced over it he scanned her closely, and an expression of

satisfaction settled on his features. She wore a dark blue silk (one

he had given her some weeks before), which exquisitely fitted her

slender, graceful figure, and was relieved by a lace collar,

fastened with a handsome cameo pin, also his gift. The glossy black

hair was brushed straight back from the face, in accordance with the

prevailing style, and wound into a knot at the back of the head. On

either side of this knot she wore a superb white camellia, which

contrasted well with the raven hair. Her face was pale, but the

expression was one of eager expectation. As the carriage rattled up

to the door he put his hand on her shoulder, and said: "You look very well to-night, my child. Those white japonicas become

you."