“Oh, Aunt Hannah, do not blame her! she was so good!” said this loyal son.  “I can bear reproach for myself, but I will not bear it for her!  Say anything you like to me, dear Aunt Hannah! but never say a word against her!”

“But, poor boy! how will you bear the sure reproach of birth that you are bound to hear from others?  Ah, Ishmael, you must try to fortify your mind, my dear, to bear much unjust shame in this world.  Ishmael, the brighter the sun shines the blacker the shadow falls.  The greater your success in the world, the bitterer will be this shame!  See, my boy, it was in the hour of your youthful triumph that this reproach was first cast in your face!  The envious are very mean, my boy.  Ah, how will you answer their cruel reproaches!”

“I will tell you, Aunt Hannah!  Let them say what they like of me; I will try to bear with them patiently; but if any man or boy utters one word of reproach against my dear mother—­” The boy ceased to speak, but his face grew lived.

“Now, now, what would you do?” exclaimed Hannah, in alarm.

“Make him recant his words, or silence him forever!”

“Oh, Ishmael!  Ishmael! you frighten me nearly to death!  Good Heaven, men are dreadful creatures!  They never receive an injury but they must needs think of slaying!  Oh, how I wish you had been a girl!  Since you were to be, how I do wish you had been a girl!  Boys are a dreadful trial and terror to a lone woman!  Oh, Ishmael! promise me you won’t do anything violent!” exclaimed Hannah, beside herself with terror.

“I cannot, Aunt Hannah!  For I should be sure to break such a promise if the occasion offered.  Oh, Aunt Hannah! you don’t know all my mother is to me!  You don’t!  You think because she died the very day that I was born that I cannot know anything about her and cannot love her; but I tell you, Aunt Hannah, I know her well! and I love her as much as if she was still in the flesh.  I have seen her in my dreams ever since I can remember anything.  Oh! often, when I was very small and you used to lock me up alone in the hut, while you went away for all day to Baymouth, I have been strangely soothed to sleep and then I have seen her in my dreams!”

“Ishmael, you rave!”

“No, I don’t; I will prove it to you, that I see my mother.  Listen, now; nobody ever described her to me; not even you; but I will tell you how she looks—­she is tall and slender; she has a very fair skin and very long black hair, and nice slender black eyebrows and long eyelashes, and large dark eyes—­and she smiles with her eyes only!  Now, is not that my mother?  For that is the form that I see in my dreams,” said Ishmael triumphantly, and for the moment forgetting his grief.

“Yes, that is like what she was; but of course you must have heard her described by someone, although you may have forgotten it.  Ishmael, dear, I shall pray for you to-night, that all thoughts of vengeance may be put out of your mind.  Now let us go to bed, my child, for we have to be up early in the morning.  And, Ishmael?”