"Oh! thank you I can bear anything now."

"Can you explain to me how the music strengthened you? Try, will you ?"

She mused for some moments, and answered thoughtfully:

"First, it made me forget the pain of my dream; then it caused me to think of the wonderful power which created music; and then, from remembering the infinite love and wisdom of the Creator, who has given man the power to call out this music, I thought how very noble man was, and what he was capable of doing; and, at last, I was glad because God has given me some of these powers; and, though I am ugly, and have been afflicted in losing my dear loved ones, yet I was made for God's glory in some way, and am yet to be shown the work he has laid out for me to do. Oh! sir, I can't explain it all to you, but I do know that God will prove to me that 'He doeth all things well.""

She looked gravely up into the face beside her, and sought to read its baffling characters. He had leaned his elbow on the melodeon, and his wax-like fingers were thrust through his hair. His brow was smooth, and his mouth at rest, but the dark eyes, with their melancholy splendor, looked down at her moodily. They met her gaze steadily, and then she saw into the misty depths, and a shudder crept over her, as she fell on her knees and said, shiveringly:

66

'Oh, sir, can it be ?"

He put his hand on her head, and asked, quietly:

"Can what be, child ?"

"Have you no God?"

A scowl of bitterness

His face grew whiter than was his wont. settled on it, and the eyes burned with almost unearthly brilliance, as he rose and walked away. For some time he stood before the window, with his arms folded; and, laying her head on the stool of the melodeon, Beulah knelt just as he left her. It has been said, "who can refute a sneer ?" Rather ask, who can compute its ruinous effects. To that, kneeling figure came the thought, "if he, surrounded by wealth, and friends, and blessings, cannot believe in God, what cause have I, poor, wretched and lonely, to have faith in Him ?" The bare suggestion of the doubt stamped it on her memory, yet she shrank with horror from the idea, and an eager, voiceless prayer ascended from her heart, that she might be shielded from such temptations in future. Dr. Hartwell touched her, and said, in his usual low, musical tones:

"It is time you were asleep. Do not indulge in any more horrible dreams, if you please. Good night, Beulah. Whenever you feel that you would like to have some music, do not hesitate to ask me for it."

He held open the door for her to pass out. She longed to ask him what he lived for, if eternity had no joys for him; but, looking in his pale face, she saw from the lips and eyes that he would not

suffer any questioning, and, awed by the expression of his countenance, she sad "good night," and hurried away. The merry hum of childish voices again fell on her ear, and as she ascended the steps, a bevy of white-clad girls emerged from a room near, and walked on just below her. Pauline's party was at its height. Beulah looked down on the fairy gossamer robes, and gayly tripping girls, and then hastened to her own room, while the thought presented itself:

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Why are things divided so unequally in this world? Why do some have all of joy, and some only sorrow's brimming cup to drain ?" But the sweet voice of Faith answered, "What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter," and, trusting the promise, she was content to wait.

CHAPTER X.

BEULAH AND CORNELIA

GRAHAM-BEULAH'S

MEETING CLAUDIA.

SURPRISE AT

C

ORNELIA GRAHAM, I want to know why you did not
come to my party? You might at least have honored me
with an
""
excuse. Such was Pauline's salutation, the
following day, when the girls gathered in groups about the

schoolroom.

"Why, Pauline, I did send an excuse, but it was addressed to your mother, and probably she forgot to mention it. You must acquit me of any such rudeness."

"Well, but why didn't you come? We had a glorious time. I have half a mind not to tell you what I heard said of you, but I believe you may have it second-hand. Fred Vincent was as grum as a preacher, all the evening, and when I asked him what on earth made him so surly and owlish, he said, 'it was too provoking you would not come, for no one else could dance the Schottisch to his liking. Now there was a sweet specimen of manners for you! You had better teach your beau politeness."

Cornelia was leaning listlessly against Clara's desk, and Beulah fancied she looked very sad, and abstracted. She colored at the jest, and answered contemptuously:

"He is no beau of mine, let me tell you, and as for manners, I commend him to your merciful tuition."

"But what was your excuse ?" persisted Pauline.

"I should think you might conjecture, that I felt no inclination to go to parties and dance, when you know that we are all so anxious about my brother."

“Oh, I did not think of that ?” cried the heedless girl, and quite as heedlessly she continued:

"I want to see that brother of yours. Uncle Guy says he is the handsomest boy in the city, and promises to make something extraordinary. Is he so very handsome ?"

"Yes," the proud lip trembled.

"I heard Anne Vernon say, she liked him better than all her other beaux, and that is great praise, coming from her queenship," said Emily Wood, who stood near.

Cornelia's eyes dilated angrily, as she answered with curling lips:

"Eugene one of her beaux! It is no such thing."

"You need not look so insulted. I suppose if the matter is such a delicate one with you, Anne will withdraw her claim," sneered Emily, happy in the opportunity afforded of wounding the haughty spirit, whom all feared, and few sympathized with.

Cornelia was about to retort, but madam's voice prevented, as leaning from the platform opposite, she held out a note, and said, "Miss Graham, a servant has just brought this for you."

The girl's face flushed and paled alternately, as she received the note, and broke the seal with trembling fingers. Glancing over the contents, her countenance became irradiated, and she exclaimed joyfully:

"Good news! the Morning Star has arrived at Amsterdam. Eugene is safe in Germany."

Beulah's head went down on her desk, and just audible were the words,

"My Father in Heaven, I thank thee!"

Only Clara and Cornelia heard the broken accents, and they looked curiously at the bowed figure, quivering with joy.

"Ah! I understand; this is the Asylum, Beulah, I have often heard him speak of. I had almost forgotten the circumstance. You knew him very well, I suppose?" said Cornelia, addressing herself to the orphan, and crumpling the note between her fingers, while her eyes ran with haughty scrutiny over the dress and features before her.

"Yes, I knew him very well." Beulah felt the blood come into her cheeks, and she ill-brooked the cold, searching look bent upon her.

"You are the same girl that he asked my father to send to the public school. How came you here?"

A pair of dark grey eyes met Cornelia's gaze, and seemed to answer defiantly, "What is it to you?"

"Has Dr. Hartwell adopted you? Pauline said so, but she is so heedless, that I scarcely believed her, particularly when it seemed so very improbable."

"Hush, Cornelia! Why, you need Pauline's tuition about as much as Fred Vincent, I am disposed to think. Don't be sQ

inquisitive, it pains her," remonstrated Clara, laying her arm around Beulah's shoulder as she spoke.

"Nonsense! She is not so fastidious, I will warrant. At least, she might answer civil questions."

"I always do," said Beulah.

Cornelia smiled derisively, and turned off with the parting taunt: "It is a mystery to me what Eugene can see in such a homely, unpolished specimen. He pities her, I suppose.'

Clara felt a long shiver creep over the slight form, and saw the ashen hue that settled on her face, as if some painful wound had been inflicted. Stooping down, she whispered:

"Don't let it trouble you. Cornelia is hasty, but she is generous, too, and will repent her rudeness. She did not intend to pain you; it is only her abrupt way of expressing herself."

Beulah raised her head, and putting back the locks of hair that had fallen over her brow, replied coldly:

"It is nothing new; I am accustomed to such treatment. Only professing to love Eugene, I did not expect her to insult one, whom he had commissioned her to assist, or at least sympathize with."

"Remember, Beulah she is an only, child, and her father's idol, and perhaps"

"The very blessings that surround her should teach her to feel for the unfortunate and unprotected," interrupted the orphan.

"You will find that prosperity rarely has such an effect upon the heart of its favorite," answered Clara, musingly.

"An unnecessary piece of information."

I discovered that

pleasant truth some time since," said Beulah, bitterly.

"I don't know, Beulah; you are an instance to the contrary. Do not call yourself unfortunate, so long as Doctor Hartwell is your friend. Ah! you little dream how blessed you are."

Her voice took the deep tone of intense feeling, and a faint glow tinged her cheek.

66

Yes, he is very kind, very good," replied the other, more gently.

"Kind! good! is that all you can say of him?" The soft brown eyes kindled with unwonted enthusiasm.

"What more can I say of him, than that he is good ?" returned the orphan, eagerly, while the conversation in the study, the preceding day, rushed to her recollection.

Clara looked at her earnestly for a moment, and then averting her head, answered evasively:

"Pardon me; I have no right to dictate the terms in which you should mention your benefactor." Beulah's intuitions were

remarkably quick, and she asked, slowly :

"Do you know him well ?"

Yes; oh, yes! very well indeed. Why do you ask?'66 'And you like him very

much ?"

"Very much."

She saw the gentle face now and saw that some sorrow had called tears to the eyes, and sent the blood coldly back to her heart.

"No one can like him as I do. You don't know how very kind he has been to me-me, the miserable, lonely orphan," murmured Beulah, as his smile and tones recurred to her.

"Yes, I can imagine, because I know his noble heart; and, therefore, child, I say you cannot realize how privileged you are."

The discussion was cut short by a call to recitation, and too calmly happy in the knowledge of Eugene's safety, to ponder her companion's manner, Beulah sank into a reverie, in which Eugene, and Heidelberg, and long letters, mingled pleasingly. Later in the day, as she and Pauline were descending the steps, the door of the primary department of the school opened, and a little girl, clad in deep black, started up the same flight of steps. Seeing the two above, she leaned against the wall, waiting for them to pass. Beulah stood still, and the satchel she carried fell unheeded from her hand, while a thrilling cry broke from the little girl's lips; and springing up the steps, she threw herself into Beulah's arms.

"Dear Beulah! I have found you at last!" She covered the thin face with passionate kisses; then heavy sobs escaped her, and the two wept bitterly together.

"Beulah, I did love her very much; I did not forget what I promised you. She used to put her arms around my neck every night, and go to sleep close to me; and whenever she thought about you and cried, she always put her head in my lap. Indeed I did love her."

"I believe you, Claudy," poor Beulah groaned, in her anguish. "They did not tell me she was dead; they said she was sick in another room! Oh, Beulah! why didn't you come to see us? Why didn't you come? When she was first taken sick, she called for you all the time; and the evening they moved me into the next room, she was asking for you. 'I want my sister Beulah! I want my Beulah!' was the last thing I heard her say; and when I cried for you, too, mamma said we were both crazy with fever. Oh !"she paused and sobbed convulsively. Beulah raised her head, and while the tears dried in her flashing eyes, said fiercely:

"Claudy, I did go to see you! On my knees, at Mrs. Grayson's front door, I prayed her to let me see you. She refused, and ordered me to come there no more! She would not suffer my sister to know that I was waiting there on my knees to see her dear, angel face. That was long before you were taken sick. She did not even send me word that Lilly was ill; I knew nothing of it, till my darling was cold in her little shroud! Oh, Claudy! Claudy!"

She covered her face with her hands and tried to stifle the wail that crossed her lips. Claudia endeavoured to soothe her, by