"But after living in Europe, and traveling so much, I should think

that plantation would be horribly dull. Do you never suffer from

ennui, cut off as you are from all society?"

"Ennui is a disease of which I am yet happily ignorant. But for my

mother I should feel the need of society; in a great measure her

presence supplies it. I shall tell you no more, cousin mine, since

you and Helen are to spend a portion of your summer with us, and can

judge for yourselves of the attractions of my country home."

"Are you residing near Mr. Arlington?" said Beulah.

"Quite near; his plantation adjoins mine. Is he a friend of yours?"

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"No; but I have a friend living this year in his family. Miss

Sanders is governess for his children. You probably know her."

"Yes; I see her occasionally. Report says she is soon to become the

bride of Richard Arlington."

A slight smile curved his lips as he watched Beulah's countenance.

She offered no comment, and he perceived that the on dit was not new

to her.

"Beulah, I suppose you have heard of Dr. Hartwell's intended journey

to the East? What an oddity he is! Told me he contemplated renting a

bungalow somewhere in heathendom, and turning either Brahmin or

Parsee, he had not quite decided which. He has sold his beautiful

place to the Farleys. The greenhouse plants he gave to mother, and

all the statuary and paintings are to be sent to us until his

return, which cannot be predicted with any certainty. Father frets a

good deal over this freak, as he calls it, and says the doctor had

much better stay at home and physic the sick. I thought it was a

sudden whim; but he says he has contemplated the trip a long time.

He is going immediately, I believe. It must be a trial to you," said

the thoughtless girl.

"Yes; I cannot realize it yet," replied Beulah, struggling with

herself for composure, and hastily setting down her teacup, which

trembled violently. The shadows swept over her once more. Mr.

Lindsay noticed her agitation, and, with delicate consideration,

forbore to look at her. Georgia continued heedlessly: "I wanted that melodeon that sits in his study; but, though the

remainder of the furniture is to be auctioned off, he says he will

not sell the melodeon, and requested my father to have it carefully

locked up somewhere at home. I asked if I might not use it, and what

do you suppose he said? That I might have his grand piano, if I

would accept it, but that nobody was to touch his melodeon. I told

him he ought to send the piano out to you, in his absence; but he

looked cross, and said you would not use it if he did."