“Yes, Aunt Hannah.”

“Do you also pray to God for guidance and help.”

“Aunt Hannah, I always do,” said the boy, as he bade his relative good-night and went up to his loft.

Long Ishmael lay tumbling and tossing upon his restless bed.  But when at length he fell asleep a heavenly dream visited him.

He dreamed that his mother, in her celestial robe, stood by his bed and breathed sweetly forth his name: 

“Ishmael, my son.”

And in his dream he answered: 

“I am here, mother.”

“Listen, my child:  Put thoughts of vengeance from your soul!  In this strong temptation think not what Washington, Jackson, or any of your warlike heroes would have done; think what the Prince of Peace, Christ, would have done; and do thou likewise!” And so saying, the heavenly vision vanished.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

LOVE AND GENIUS.

  Her face was shining on him; he had looked
  Upon it till it could not pass away;
  He had no breath, no being but in hers;
  She was his voice:  he did not speak to her,
  But trembled on her words:  she was his sight;
  For his eye followed hers and saw with hers,
  Which colored all his objects.

  —­Byron.

Early the next morning Ishmael walked over to Brudenell Hall with the threefold purpose of making an apology for his sudden departure from the ball; taking leave of the family for the holidays; and bringing home the books he had won as prizes.

As he approached the house he saw Mr. Middleton walking on the lawn.

That gentleman immediately advanced to meet Ishmael, holding out his hand, and saying, with even more than his usual kindness of manner: 

“Good-morning, my dear boy; you quite distinguished yourself yesterday; I congratulate you.”

“I thank you, sir; I thank you very much; but I fear that I was guilty of great rudeness in leaving the party so abruptly last night; but I hope, when you hear my explanation, you will excuse me, sir,” said Ishmael, deeply flushing.

Mr. Middleton kindly drew the boy’s arm within his own, and walked him away from the house down a shady avenue of elms, and when they had got quite out of hearing of any chance listener, he said gravely: 

“My boy, I have heard the facts from Walter, and I do not require any explanation from you.  I hold you entirely blameless in the affair, Ishmael, and I can only express my deep regret that you should have received an insult while under my roof.  I trust, Ishmael, that time and reflection will convince young Burghe of his great error, and that the day may come when he himself will seek you to make a voluntary apology for his exceeding rudeness.”

Ishmael did not reply; his eyes were fixed upon the ground, and his very forehead was crimson.  Mr. Middleton saw all this, divined his thoughts, and so gently continued: