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Updated: July 27, 2025
And thus the Sea-flower endeavored to prepare Winnie's mind for receiving her new mother, who would so soon take her place at the head of this once unbroken family, as became a meek and dutiful child; but she did not tell her of the trembling within her own heart, lest this new tie should prove a source of sorrows, sowing her youthful heart with seed which might be productive of bitter among the sweets; neither did she know of the prayers of the innocent maiden, that hers might be a thornless path.
It was a little arbor, formed by a clustering rose, vieing with the flowering currant in fragrance; thither had the Sea-flower repaired, and as the softest rays of a northern sky, at sunset, sank into her soul, mingling with more mellow light than is of southern climes, these words fell upon her ear, "Natalie, she is not my sister by birth."
So did the Sea-flower gather together the broken threads of this family, weaving them closer with that golden thread of tender remembrance of him who had gone to await them for a little in that happier home above; this family, of which she had never the slightest suspicion but that they were of her own flesh and blood; and as she sat with her hand clasped within that of her mother's, reading from that blessed book, "Come unto me all ye that are weary," Mrs.
Nay, do not start at such a strange declaration from my lips; you are the only person, out of my father's household, who has a suspicion that our happiness is not what it once was; but since it has come to this, I will, at the risk of disclosing to the world what it were wisdom to conceal, establish the innocent; and rest assured that what I say is true, this originated not among the servants, for there is not one but would kneel and kiss the very ground upon which our dear Sea-flower treads."
"Mother," asked Winnie, a few days before the arrival of the Sea-flower, "who is this friend whom you have invited to visit us? that is, I mean to ask, what is she like? I have often heard you speak of your early friend, Mrs.
The Sea-flower pressed his bony, black hand to her lips. "Ah! I know dat you neber change, missy; I know you always be de same! I tells mysef dat, dese long years past, and bress de Lord, poor old Bingo hab one friend as long as he hab a hope ob libin'!"
It was one of those soul-stirring days in October, which cannot fail to arouse the most thoughtless mind to a sense of the wonderful works of creation. The Sea-flower had gone to the "low home over the commons." Hand in hand, that red man and the tender child, they went their way, to where he pointed out the graves of his people; there were no stones, not a mound to mark the spot.
"Farewell; God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint, cold fear thrilling through my veins, That almost freezes up the heat of life." As the dews of heaven fall gently, lulling the flowers to rest, so did the low, clear voice of the Sea-flower soothe the weary spirits of Mrs.
"We are going home," the officer raised his hat as he passed the Sea-flower, involuntarily repeating her words, words which many times have been idly spoken, but how full of meaning.
Had he not been screened from the bright glow of the fire-light, the Sea-flower must have noticed his agitation, as she looked up for the good-night kiss; he clasped her in his arms for a moment, and then the door closed upon her gentle form. The old clock in the church tower had struck eleven, and Harry heard the cry of the watch, "all's well."
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