Afloat and Ashore: A Sea Tale

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER I.

  "And I--my joy of life is fled, My spirit's power, my bosom's glow; The raven locks that grac'd my head, Wave in a wreath of snow! And where the star of youth arose, I deem'd life's lingering ray should close, And those lov'd trees my tomb o'ershade, Beneath whose arching bowers my childhood play'd." MRS. HEMANS.

  I was born in a valley not very remote from the sea. My father had beena sailor in youth, and some of my earliest recollections are connectedwith the history of his adventures, and the recollections they excited.He had been a boy in the war of the revolution, and had seen someservice in the shipping of that period. Among other scenes he witnessed,he had been on board the Trumbull, in her action with the Watt--thehardest-fought naval combat of that war--and he particularly delightedin relating its incidents. He had been wounded in the battle, and borethe marks of the injury, in a scar that slightly disfigured a face,that, without this blemish, would have been singularly handsome. Mymother, after my poor father's death, always spoke of even this scaras a beauty spot. Agreeably to my own recollections, the mark scarcelydeserved that commendation, as it gave one side of the face a grim andfierce appearance, particularly when its owner was displeased.

  My father died on the farm on which he was born, and which descended tohim from his great-grandfather, an English emigrant that had purchasedit of the Dutch colonist who had originally cleared it from the woods.The place was called Clawbonny, which some said was good Dutch othersbad Dutch; and, now and then, a person ventured a conjecture that itmight be Indian. Bonny it was, in one sense at least, for a lovelierfarm there is not on the whole of the wide surface of the Empire State.What does not always happen in this wicked, world, it was as good asit was handsome. It consisted of three hundred and seventy-two acres offirst-rate land, either arable, or of rich river bottom in meadows, andof more than a hundred of rocky mountain side, that was very tolerablycovered with wood. The first of our family who owned the place had builta substantial one-story stone house, that bears the date of 1707 on oneof its gables; and to which each of his successors had added a little,until the whole structure got to resemble a cluster of cottages throwntogether without the least attention to order or regularity. There werea porch, a front door, and a lawn, however; the latter containing half adozen acres of a soil as black as one's hat, and nourishing eight orten elms that were scattered about, as if their seeds had been sownbroad-cast. In addition to the trees, and a suitable garniture ofshrubbery, this lawn was coated with a sward that, in the properseasons, rivalled all I have read, or imagined, of the emerald and shornslopes of the Swiss valleys.

  Clawbonny, while it had all the appearance of being the residence of anaffluent agriculturist, had none of the pretension of these later times.The house had an air of substantial comfort without, an appearance thatits interior in no manner contradicted. The ceilings, were low, it istrue, nor were the rooms particularly large; but the latter were warmin winter, cool in summer and tidy, neat and respectable all the yearround. Both the parlours had carpets, as had the passages and all thebetter bed-rooms; and there were an old-fashioned chintz settee, wellstuffed and cushioned, and curtains in the "big parlour," as we calledthe best apartment,--the pretending name of drawing-room not havingreached our valley as far back as the year 1796, or that in which myrecollections of the place, as it then existed, are the most vivid anddistinct.

  We had orchards, meadows, and ploughed fields all around us; while thebarns, granaries, styes, and other buildings of the farm, were of solidstone, like the dwelling, and all in capital condition. In addition tothe place, which he inherited from my grandfather, quite without anyencumbrance, well stocked and supplied with utensils of all sorts, myfather had managed to bring with him from sea some fourteen or fifteenthousand dollars, which he carefully invested in mortgages in thecounty. He got twenty-seven hundred pounds currency with my mother,similarly bestowed; and, two or three great landed proprietors, andas many retired merchants from York, excepted, Captain Wallingford wasgenerally supposed to be one of the stiffest men in Ulster county. I donot know exactly how true was this report; though I never saw anythingbut the abundance of a better sort of American farm under the paternalroof, and I know that the poor were never sent away empty-handed. It astrue that our wine was made of currants; but it was delicious, and therewas always a sufficient stock in the cellar to enable us to drinkit three or four years old. My father, however, had a small privatecollection of his own, out of which he would occasionally producea bottle; and I remember to have heard Governor George Clinton,afterwards, Vice President, who was an Ulster county man, and whosometimes stopped at Clawbonny in passing, say that it was excellentEast India Madeira. As for clarets, burgundy, hock and champagne, theywere wines then unknown in America, except on the tables of some ofthe principal merchants, and, here and there, on that of some travelledgentleman of an estate larger than common. When I say that GovernorGeorge Clinton used to stop occasionally, and taste my father's Madeira,I do not wish to boast of being classed with those who then composedthe gentry of the state. To this, in that day, we could hardly aspire,though the substantial hereditary property of my family gave us a localconsideration that placed us a good deal above the station of ordinaryyeomen. Had we lived in one of the large towns, our association wouldunquestionably have been with those who are usually considered to be oneor two degrees beneath the highest class. These distinctions were muchmore marked, immediately after the war of the revolution, than they areto-day; and they are more marked to-day, even, than all but the mostlucky, or the most meritorious, whichever fortune dignifies, are willingto allow.

  The courtship between my parents occurred while my father was at home,to be cured of the wounds he had received in the engagement between theTrumbull and the Watt. I have always supposed this was the moving causewhy my mother fancied that the grim-looking scar on the left side ofmy father's face was so particularly becoming. The battle was fought inJune 1780, and my parents were married in the autumn of the same year.My father did not go to sea again until after my birth, which took placethe very day that Cornwallis capitulated at Yorktown. These combinedevents set the young sailor in motion, for he felt he had a family toprovide for, and he wished to make one more mark on the enemy inreturn for the beauty-spot his wife so gloried in. He accordingly got acommission in a privateer, made two or three fortunate cruises, and wasable at the peace to purchase a prize-brig, which he sailed, as masterand owner, until the year 1790, when he was recalled to the paternalroof by the death of my grandfather. Being an only son, the captain, asmy father was uniformly called, inherited the land, stock, utensils andcrops, as already mentioned; while the six thousand pounds currencythat were "at use," went to my two aunts, who were thought to be wellmarried, to men in their own class of life, in adjacent counties.

  My father never went to sea after he inherited Clawbonny. From thattime down to the day of his death, he remained on his farm, withthe exception of a single winter passed in Albany as one of therepresentatives of the county. In his day, it was a credit to a man torepresent a county, and to hold office under the State; though the abuseof the elective principle, not to say of the appointing power, hassince brought about so great a change. Then, a member of congress was_somebody_; now, he is only--a member of congress.

  We were but two surviving children, three of the family dying infants,leaving only my sister Grace and myself to console our mother in herwidowhood. The dire accident which placed her in this, the saddest ofall conditions for a woman who had been a happy wife, occurred in theyear 1794, when I was in my thirteenth year, and Grace was turned ofeleven. It may be well to relate the particulars.

  There was a mill, just where the stream that runs through our valleytumbles down to a level below that on which the farm lies, and emptiesitself into a small tributary of the Hudson. This mill was on ourproperty, and was a source of great convenience and of some profit tomy father. There he ground all the grain that was consumed for domesticpurposes, for several miles around; and t
he tolls enabled him to fattenhis porkers and beeves, in a way to give both a sort of establishedcharacter. In a word, the mill was the concentrating point for all theproducts of the farm, there being a little landing on the margin ofthe creek that put up from the Hudson, whence a sloop sailed weeklyfor town. My father passed half his time about the mill and landing,superintending his workmen, and particularly giving directions about thefitting of the sloop, which was his property also, and about the gearof the mill. He was clever, certainly, and had made several usefulsuggestions to the millwright who occasionally came to examine andrepair the works; but he was by no means so accurate a mechanic as hefancied himself to be. He had invented some new mode of arresting themovement, and of setting the machinery in motion when necessary; whatit was, I never knew, for it was not named at Clawbonny after the fatalaccident occurred. One day, however, in order to convince the millwrightof the excellence of this improvement, my father caused the machineryto be stopped, and then placed his own weight upon the large wheel, inorder to manifest the sense he felt in the security of his invention.He was in the very act of laughing exultingly at the manner in which themillwright shook his head at the risk he ran, when the arresting powerlost its control of the machinery, the heavy head of water burst intothe buckets, and the wheel whirled round carrying my unfortunate fatherwith it. I was an eye-witness of the whole, and saw the face of myparent, as the wheel turned it from me, still expanded in mirth. Therewas but one revolution made, when the wright succeeded in stoppingthe works. This brought the great wheel back nearly to its originalposition, and I fairly shouted with hysterical delight when I saw myfather standing in his tracks, as it might be, seemingly unhurt. Unhurthe would have been, though he must have passed a fearful keel-hauling,but for one circumstance. He had held on to the wheel with the tenacityof a seaman, since letting go his hold would have thrown him down acliff of near a hundred feet in depth, and he actually passed betweenthe wheel and the planking beneath it unharmed, although there was onlyan inch or two to spare; but in rising from this fearful strait, hishead had been driven between a projecting beam and one of the buckets,in a way to crush one temple in upon the brain. So swift and sudden hadbeen the whole thing, that, on turning the wheel, his lifeless bodywas still inclining on its periphery, retained erect, I believe, inconsequence of some part of his coat getting attached, to the head ofa nail. This was the first serious sorrow of my life. I had alwaysregarded my father as one of the fixtures of the world; as a part of thegreat system of the universe; and had never contemplated his death asa possible thing. That another revolution might occur, and carry thecountry back under the dominion of the British crown, would have seemedto me far more possible than that my father could die. Bitter truth nowconvinced me of the fallacy of such notions.

  It was months and months before I ceased to dream of this frightfulscene. At my age, all the feelings were fresh and plastic, and grieftook strong hold of my heart. Grace and I used to look at each otherwithout speaking, long after the event, the tears starting to my eyes,and rolling down her cheeks, our emotions being the only communicationsbetween us, but communications that no uttered words could have made soplain. Even now, I allude to my mother's anguish with trembling. Shewas sent for to the house of the miller, where the body lay, and arrivedunapprised of the extent of the evil. Never can I--never shall I forgetthe outbreakings of her sorrow, when she learned the whole of thedreadful truth. She was in fainting fits for hours, one succeedinganother, and then her grief found tongue. There was no term ofendearment that the heart of woman could dictate to her speech, that wasnot lavished on the lifeless clay. She called the dead "her Miles," "herbeloved Miles," "her husband," "her own darling husband," and by suchother endearing epithets. Once she seemed as if resolute to arousethe sleeper from his endless trance, and she said, solemnly,"_Father_--dear, _dearest_ father!" appealing as it might be to theparent of her children, the tenderest and most comprehensive of allwoman's terms of endearment--"Father--dear, dearest father! open youreyes and look upon your babes--your precious girl, and noble boy! Do notthus shut out their sight for ever!"

  But it was in vain. There lay the lifeless corpse, as insensible asif the spirit of God had never had a dwelling within it. The principalinjury had been received on that much-prized scar; and again and againdid my poor mother kiss both, as if her caresses might yet restoreher husband to life. All would not do. The same evening, the bodywas carried to the dwelling, and three days later it was laid in thechurch-yard, by the side of three generations of forefathers, at adistance of only a mile from Clawbonny. That funeral service, too, madea deep impression on my memory. We had some Church of England peoplein the valley; and old Miles Wallingford, the first of the name, asubstantial English franklin, had been influenced in his choice of apurchase by the fact that one of Queen Anne's churches stood so nearthe farm. To that little church, a tiny edifice of stone, with ahigh, pointed roof, without steeple, bell, or vestry-room, had threegenerations of us been taken to be christened, and three, includingmy father, had been taken to be buried. Excellent, kind-hearted,just-minded Mr. Hardinge read the funeral service over the man whomhis own father had, in the same humble edifice, christened. Ourneighbourhood has much altered of late years; but, then, few higher thanmere labourers dwelt among us, who had not some sort of hereditary claimto be beloved. So it was with our clergyman, whose father had beenhis predecessor, having actually married my grand-parents. The son hadunited my father and mother, and now he was called on to officiate atthe funeral obsequies of the first. Grace and I sobbed as if ourhearts would break, the whole time we were in the church; and my poor,sensitive, nervous little sister actually shrieked as she heard thesound of the first clod that fell upon the coffin. Our mother was sparedthat trying scene, finding it impossible to support it. She remained athome, on her knees, most of the day on which the funeral occurred.

  Time soothed our sorrows, though my mother, a woman of more than commonsensibility, or, it were better to say of uncommon affections, neverentirely recovered from the effects of her irreparable loss. She hadloved too well, too devotedly, too engrossingly, ever to think of asecond marriage, and lived only to care for the interests of MilesWallingford's children. I firmly believe we were more beloved becausewe stood in this relation to the deceased, than because we were her ownnatural offspring. Her health became gradually undermined, and, threeyears after the accident of the mill, Mr. Hardinge laid her at myfather's side. I was now sixteen, and can better describe what passedduring the last days of her existence, than what took place at thedeath of her husband. Grace and I were apprised of what was so likely tooccur, quite a month before the fatal moment arrived; and we were notso much overwhelmed with sudden grief as we had been on the first greatoccasion of family sorrow, though we both felt our loss keenly, and mysister, I think I may almost say, inextinguishably. Mr. Hardinge hadus both brought to the bed-side, to listen to the parting advice of ourdying parent, and to be impressed with a scene that is always healthful,if rightly improved. "You baptized these two dear children, good Mr.Hardinge," she said, in a voice that was already enfeebled by physicaldecay, "and you signed them with the sign of the cross, in token ofChrist's death for them; and I now ask of your friendship and pastoralcare to see that they are not neglected at the most critical period oftheir lives--that when impressions are the deepest, and yet the mosteasily made. God will reward all your kindness to the orphan childrenof your friends." The excellent divine, a man who lived more for othersthan for himself, made the required promises, and the soul of my mothertook its flight in peace.

  Neither my sister nor myself grieved as deeply for the loss of this lastof our parents, as we did for that of the first. We had both seen somany instances of her devout goodness, had been witnesses of so great atriumph of her faith as to feel an intimate, though silent, persuasionthat her death was merely a passage to a better state of existence--thatit seemed selfish to regret. Still, we wept and mourned, even while,in one sense, I think we rejoiced. She was relieved from, much
bodilysuffering, and I remember, when I went to take a last look at herbeloved face, that I gazed on its calm serenity with a feeling akin toexultation, as I recollected that pain could no longer exercise dominionover her frame, and that her spirit was then dwelling in bliss. Bitterregrets came later, it is true, and these were fully shared--nay, morethan shared--by Grace.

  After the death of my father, I had never bethought me of the mannerin which he had disposed of his property. I heard something said of hiswill, and gleaned a little, accidentally, of the forms that had beengone through in proving the instrument, and of obtaining its probate.Shortly after my mother's death, however, Mr. Hardinge had a freeconversation with both me and Grace on the subject, when we learned,for the first time, the disposition that had been made. My father hadbequeathed to me the farm, mill, landing, sloop, stock, utensils, crops,&c. &c., in full property; subject, however, to my mother's use ofthe whole until I attained my majority; after which I was to give hercomplete possession of a comfortable wing of the house, which had everyconvenience for a small family within itself, certain privileges in thefields, dairy, styes, orchards, meadows, granaries, &c., and to payher three hundred pounds currency, per annum, in money. Grace had fourthousand pounds that were "at use," and I had all the remainder of thepersonal property, which yielded about five hundred dollars a-year. Asthe farm, sloop, mill, landing, &c., produced a net annual income ofrather more than a thousand dollars, besides all that was consumed inhousekeeping, I was very well off, in the way of temporal things, forone who had been trained in habits as simple as those which reigned atClawbonny.

  My father had left Mr. Hardinge the executor, and my mother an executrixof his will, with survivorship. He had also made the same provisionas respected the guardians. Thus Grace and I became the wards of theclergyman alone on the death of our last remaining parent. This wasgrateful to us both, for we both truly loved this good man, and,what was more, we loved his children. Of these there were two of agescorresponding very nearly with our own; Rupert Hardinge being not quitea year older than I was myself, and Lucy, his sister, about six monthsyounger than Grace. We were all four strongly attached to each other,and had been so from infancy, Mr. Hardinge having had charge of myeducation as soon as I was taken from a woman's school.

  I cannot say, however, that Rupert Hardinge was ever a boy to give hisfather the delight that a studious, well-conducted, considerate andindustrious child, has it so much in his power to yield to his parent.Of the two, I was much the best scholar, and had been pronounced byMr. Hardinge fit to enter college, a twelvemonth before my mother died;though she declined sending me to Yale, the institution selected by myfather, until my school-fellow was similarly prepared, it having beenher intention to give the clergyman's son a thorough education, infurtherance of his father's views of bringing him up to the church. Thisdelay, so well and kindly meant, had the effect of changing the wholecourse of my subsequent life.

  My father, it seems, wished to make a lawyer of me, with the naturaldesire of seeing me advanced to some honourable position in the State.But I was averse to anything like serious mental labour, and wasgreatly delighted when my mother determined to keep me out of college atwelvemonth in order that my friend Rupert might be my classmate. It istrue I learned quick, and was fond of reading; but the first I could notvery well help, while the reading I liked was that which amused, ratherthan that which instructed me. As for Rupert, though not absolutelydull, but, on the other hand, absolutely clever in certain things,he disliked mental labour even more than myself, while he likedself-restraint of any sort far less. His father was sincerely pious, andregarded his sacred office with too much reverence to think of bringingup a "cosset-priest," though he prayed and hoped that his son'sinclinations, under the guidance of Providence, would take thatdirection. He seldom spoke on the subject himself, but I ascertained hiswishes through my confidential dialogues with his children. Lucy seemeddelighted with the idea, looking forward to the time when her brotherwould officiate in the same desk where her father and grandfather hadnow conducted the worship of God for more than half a century; a periodof time that, to us young people, seemed to lead us back to the darkages of the country. And all this the dear girl wished for her brother,in connection with his spiritual rather than his temporal interests,inasmuch as the living was worth only a badly-paid salary of onehundred and fifty pounds currency per annum, together with a smallbut comfortable rectory, and a glebe of five-and-twenty acres of verytolerable land, which it was thought no sin, in that day, for theclergyman to work by means of two male slaves, whom, with as manyfemales, he had inherited as part of the chattels of his mother.

  I had a dozen slaves also; negroes who, as a race, had been in thefamily almost as long as Clawbonny. About half of these blacks weresingularly laborious and useful, viz., four males and three of thefemales; but several of the remainder were enjoying _otium_, and notaltogether without _dignitate_, as heir-looms to be fed, clothed andlodged, for the good, or evil, they had done. There were some small-fryin our kitchens, too, that used to roll about on the grass, andmunch fruit in the summer, _ad libitum;_ and stand so close in thechimney-corners in cold weather, that I have often fancied they musthave been, as a legal wit of New York once pronounced certain easterncoal-mines to be, incombustible. These negroes all went by thepatronymic of Clawbonny, there being among them Hector Clawbonny, VenusClawbonny, Caesar Clawbonny, Rose Clawbonny--who was as black as acrow--Romeo Clawbonny, and Julietta, commonly called Julee, Clawbonny;who were, with Pharaoh, Potiphar, Sampson and Nebuchadnezzar, allClawbonnys in the last resort. Neb, as the namesake of the herbiferousking of Babylon was called, was about my own age, and had been a sort ofhumble playfellow from infancy; and even now, when it was thought properto set him about the more serious toil which was to mark his humblecareer, I often interfered to call him away to be my companion withthe rod, the fowling-piece, or in the boat, of which we had one thatfrequently descended the creek, and navigated the Hudson for miles at atime, under my command. The lad, by such means, and through an off-handfriendliness of manner that I rather think was characteristic of myhabits at that day, got to love me as a brother or comrade. It is noteasy to describe the affection of an attached slave, which has blendedwith it the pride of a partisan, the solicitude of a parent, and theblindness of a lover. I do think Neb had more gratification in believinghimself particularly belonging to Master Miles, than I ever had in anyquality or thing I could call my own. Neb, moreover liked a vagrantlife, and greatly encouraged Rupert and myself in idleness, and adesultory manner of misspending hours that could never be recalled.The first time I ever played truant was under the patronage of Neb,who decoyed me away from my books to go nutting on the mountain stoutlymaintaining that chestnuts were just as good as the spelling-book, orany primer that could be bought in York.

  I have forgotten to mention that the death of my mother, which occurredin the autumn, brought about an immediate change in the condition of ourdomestic economy. Grace was too young, being only fourteen, to presideover such a household, and I could be of little use, either in the wayof directing or advising. Mr. Hardinge, who had received a letter tothat effect from the dying saint, that was only put into his hand theday after the funeral, with a view to give her request the greaterweight, rented the rectory, and came to Clawbonny to live, bringing withhim both his children. My mother knew that his presence would be of thegreatest service to the orphans she left behind her; while the moneysaved from his own household expenses might enable this single-mindedminister of the altar to lay by a hundred or two for Lucy, who, at hisdemise, might otherwise be left without a penny, as it was then said,cents not having yet come much into fashion.

  This removal gave Grace and me much pleasure, for she was as fond ofLucy as I was of Rupert, and, to tell the truth, so was I, too. Fourhappier young people were not to be found in the State than we thusbecame, each and all of us finding in the arrangement exactly theassociation which was most agreeable to our feelings. Previously, weonly saw each other ev
ery day; now, we saw each other all day. At nightwe separated at an early hour, it is true, each having his or her room;but it was to meet at a still earlier hour the next morning, and toresume our amusements in company. From study, all of us were relievedfor a month or two, and we wandered through the fields; nutted, gatheredfruit, or saw others gather it as well as the crops, taking as muchexercise as possible in the open air, equally for the good of ourbodies, and the lightening of our spirits.

  I do not think vanity, or any feeling connected with self-love, misleadsme, when I say it would have been difficult to find four young peoplemore likely to attract the attention of a passer-by, than we four were,in the fall of 1797. As for Rupert Hardinge, he resembled his mother,and was singularly handsome in face, as well as graceful in movements.He had a native gentility of air, of which he knew how to make the most,and a readiness of tongue and a flow of spirits that rendered him anagreeable, if not a very instructive companion. I was not ill-looking,myself, though far from possessing the striking countenance of myyoung associate. In manliness, strength and activity, however, I hadessentially the advantage over him, few youths of my age surpassing mein masculine qualities of this nature, after I had passed my twelfthyear. My hair was a dark auburn, and it was the only thing about myface, perhaps, that would cause a stranger to notice it; but this hungabout my temples and down my neck in rich ringlets, until frequentapplications of the scissors brought it into something like subjection.It never lost its beauty entirely, and though now white as snow, itis still admired. But Grace was the one of the party whose personalappearance would be most likely to attract attention. Her face beamedwith sensibility and feeling, being one of those countenances on whichnature sometimes delights to impress the mingled radiance, sweetness,truth and sentiment, that men ascribe to angels. Her hair was lighterthan mine; her eyes of a heavenly blue, all softness and tenderness;her cheeks just of the tint of the palest of the coloured roses; and hersmile so full of gentleness and feeling, that, again and again, ithas controlled my ruder and more violent emotions, when they were fastgetting the mastery. In form, some persons might have thought Grace, ina slight degree, too fragile, though her limbs would have been delicatemodels for the study of a sculptor.

  Lucy, too, had certainly great perfection, particularly in figure;though in the crowd of beauty that has been so profusely lavished on theyouthful in this country, she would not have been at all remarked ina large assembly of young American girls. Her face was pleasingnevertheless; and there was a piquant contrast between the ravenblackness of her hair the deep blue of her eyes, and the dazzlingwhiteness of her skin. Her colour, too, was high, and changeful withher emotions. As for teeth, she had a set that one might have travelledweeks to meet with their equals; and, though she seemed totallyunconscious of the advantage, she had a natural manner of showing them,that would have made a far less interesting face altogether agreeable.Her voice and laugh, too, when happy and free from care, were joyousnessitself.

  It would be saying too much, perhaps, to assert that any human being wasever totally indifferent to his or her personal appearance. Still, I donot think either of our party, Rupert alone excepted, ever thought onthe subject, unless as it related to others, down to the period Of whichI am now writing. I knew, and saw, and felt that my sister was far morebeautiful than any of the young girls of her age and condition that Ihad seen in her society; and I had pleasure and pride in the fact. Iknew that I resembled her in some respects, but I was never coxcombenough to imagine I had half her good-looks, even allowing fordifference of sex. My own conceit, so far as I then had any--plenty ofit came, a year or two later--but my own conceit, in 1797, rather ranin the direction of my athletic properties, physical force, which wasunusually great for sixteen, and stature. As for Rupert, I would nothave exchanged these manly qualities for twenty times his good looks,and a thought of envy never crossed my mind on the subject. I fanciedit might be well enough for a parson to be a little delicate, and a gooddeal handsome; but for one who intended to knock about the world as Ihad it already in contemplation to do, strength, health, vigour, courageand activity, were much more to be desired than beauty.

  Lucy I never thought of as handsome at all. I saw she was pleasing;fancied she was even more so to me than to any one else; and I neverlooked upon her sunny, cheerful and yet perfectly feminine face, withouta feeling of security and happiness. As for her honest eyes, theyinvariably met my own with an open frankness that said, as plainly aseyes could say anything, there was nothing to be concealed.