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Updated: May 15, 2025
Houstoun," she exclaimed, removing her hands from her face, and wringing them in passionate sorrow "how could you speak those words?" "Wherefore should I not speak them are they so terrifying to you, Lucy?" "Can they be otherwise, since they must separate us for ever? Think you that the Lady Houstoun would endure that the creature of her bounty should become the wife of her son?"
Graceful forms flitted through her halls, and the music of sweet voices and the gay laughter of innocent and happy hearts were heard within her rooms, but by all their attractions Edward Houstoun was unmoved. Courteous and bland to all, he never lingered by the side of one no quick flush, no flashing beam told that even for a passing moment his heart was again awake.
Here, one afternoon, a fortnight after the departure of his friends, sat Edward Houstoun with Lucy at his side. They had lingered till the sunlight, which had fallen here and there in broken and changeful gleams through over-arching boughs, touching with gold the ripples at their feet, had faded into that "mellow light Which heaven to gaudy day denies."
Edward Houstoun had fitted up a room in his mother's house as a study, and over his accustomed seat hung his father's portrait. To that room he went on his return from the scene we have described. Beneath the portrait stood one who seldom entered there. She turned at the opening of the door the lip, usually so firmly compressed, was quivering with emotion, and those stern eyes were full of tears.
Pye," said Edward Houstoun, as she disappeared. "And I haven't a daughter only the two boys, Sammy and Isaac good big boys they are now, and help their father quite some but this girl's none of mine, though I'm sure I love her 'most as well she's so pretty and nice, and has such handy ways, though what could have tempted her to put the cream in the new milk just now, I'm sure I can't tell."
At first, no doubt, painful recollections were aroused, but with the feebleness of childhood had returned much of its gentleness and susceptibility, and Lucy was at once so tender and so cheerful, that very soon her ministerings were received with unalloyed pleasure. Sickness is a heavenly teacher to those who will open their hearts to her. Lady Houstoun arose to a new life.
The proud spirit had bent, the sealed fountain was opened, and as he clasped his arms around her, the tears of mother and son mingled; but amidst the joy of this reunion Edward Houstoun felt more deeply than he had done for long months the desolation that had fallen on his life. His heart had been silent it now spoke again, and sad were its tones. It is summer.
In his case these dreams were somewhat rudely dispelled by a summons from his mother's physician. Lady Houstoun was ill very ill he must not delay, said the physician; and he did not; yet a hastily pencilled line told that even at this moment Lucy was not forgotten it was a farewell which breathed love and faith and hope.
"Edward!" ejaculated Lady Houstoun, in an accent of displeasure, "that we are willing to sacrifice a possession at the call of duty does not prove us insensible of its value."
"Better that the lady should know all she will act both wisely and tenderly perhaps for her son's sake, she will aid me to leave New-York." Such was the only language into which she allowed even her thought silently to form itself. Arranging her simple dress with as much care as though she were about to meet her lover himself, Lucy set out for her interview with Lady Houstoun.
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