“If Cousin Augustus should be worse,—­should die, what will become of the poor motherless child?”

“There are no nearer relatives than we, mother,—­and we must give her a home, if she will come.”

“Certainly, Walter, we must not be hard-hearted.”

Mrs. Monroe was charitable, kind, and motherly towards the distressed; she felt the force of her son’s generous sentiments.  If it were her Cousin Augustus himself who was to be sheltered, or his son, if he had one,—­or if the daughter were unattractive, a hoyden even, she would cheerfully make any sacrifice in favor of hospitality.  But she could not repress a secret fear lest the beauty and innocence of the orphan should appeal too strongly to Walter’s heart.  She knew the natural destiny of agreeable young men; she acknowledged to herself that Walter would sometime marry; but she put the time far off as an evil day, and kept the subject under ban.  None of her neighbors who had pretty daughters were encouraged to visit her on intimate terms.  She almost frowned upon every winsome face that crossed her threshold when Walter was at home.  So absorbing was this feeling, that she was not aware of its existence, but watched her son by a sort of instinct.  Her conduct was not the result of cool calculation, and, if it could have been properly set before her generous, kindly heart, she would have been shocked at her own fond selfishness.

So she sat and speculated, balancing between fear and hope.  If Walter built air-castles, was he to blame?  At twenty-four, with a heart untouched, with fresh susceptibilities, and a little romance withal, is it to be wondered that his fancy drew such pleasing pictures of his cousin?

We will leave them to their quiet evening’s enjoyment and follow Greenleaf to the house of Mr. Sandford.

CHAPTER VII.

THE MUSICAL SOIREE.

A small, but judiciously-selected company had assembled; all were people of musical tastes, and most of them capable of sharing in the performances.  There were but few ladies; perhaps it did not suit the mistress of the house to have the attentions of the gentlemen divided among too many.  Miss Sandford was undeniably queen of the evening; her superb face and figure, and irreproachable toilet, never showed to better advantage.  And her easy manners, and ready, silvery words, would have given a dangerous charm to a much plainer woman.  She had a smile, a welcome, and a compliment for each,—­not seemingly studied, but gracefully expressed, and sufficient to put the guests in the best humor.  Mrs. Sandford, less demonstrative in manner than her sister-in-law, and less brilliant in conversation and personal attractions, was yet a most winning, lovable woman,—­a companion for a summer ramble, or a quiet tete-a-tete, rather than a belle for a drawing-room.  Mr. Sandford was calmly conscious, full of subdued spirits, cheerful