Had the character of the mother-in-law been in accordance with her exterior, Santon Mansion might still have resounded with joy, for hers was a face by no means forbidding.  On the contrary, a stranger would have pronounced her to be decidedly good-looking, considering that she was a woman of nearly fifty years, and those good looks were the secret of Mr. Santon’s unfortunate connection with her.  From the first, the woman had taken a dislike to Natalie; it seemed as if she was determined to spite her in every way possible.  Why she should have felt thus toward her, was certainly unaccountable, as there was no trait more unlovable than innocency, about her character; but this very gentleness of nature, in contrast with the iciness, seldom found in woman’s heart, would, as an unavoidable result, serve to widen the two extremes.

The Sea-flower would, as time advanced, have sought refuge in her own home, from this mist of unrest, which had by degrees spread itself around, but when she had spoken of the thing to Mr. Santon, he had grasped her by the hand, as a drowning man would catch at a straw, saying, if she would not entirely sever the golden thread which was once bound around their home circle, she would defer her departure, for at least, a little time; and she had seen the tear, which was as molten lead, welling up from the strong man’s heart.  Then she said, “It is my duty!  I will remain with you!  I feel there is something which bids me stay; some mysterious power controlling my destiny.”

“May you have your reward!” was Mr. Santon’s reply; and we heartily respond, “May she have her reward!”

Never a word did Mrs. Santon receive from the Sea-flower, in return for her ungenerous treatment of her, other than tones of kindness; and Natalie was happy under this new dispensation, for she said within herself,—­“I am but bearing a part of the burden which would crush dear Winnie’s heart;” and so she sang and played with her usual glad spirit, gliding about the house with simple dignity, with a cheering word for every one, and, as Biddy said,—­“she was an escaped ray of light, too bright for the darkness to hide.”

As we may foresee, this very light-heartedness of the Sea-flower only served to incite the ire of Mrs. Santon, who saw that every new indignity which she had cast upon her, was returned with more meekness of spirit.  If Natalie had resented such conduct, giving “measure for measure,” the stern woman could have borne it better; but as it was, it enraged her, that she could not come within her sphere; and, if the truth were known, her senses were not so steeped in the waters of insensibility, but that in her very heart she felt her great superiority over herself.