“I am glad to hear you say so, my dear; especially as I had invited Ishmael to join us at tea this evening, and forgotten to tell you of it until this moment.  But, Claudia, my little girl,” said the judge, scrutinizing her pale cheeks and heavy eyes, “you must not take all the sin and sorrows of the world as much to heart as you have this case; for, if you do, you will be an old woman before you are twenty years of age.”

Claudia smiled faintly; but before she could reply the regular monotonous thump of a crutch, was heard approaching the door, and in another moment Ishmael stood within the room.

There was nothing in that fine intellectual countenance, with its fair, broad, calm forehead, thoughtful eyes, and finely curved lips, to suggest the idea of an ignoble birth.  With a graceful bow and sweet smile and a perfectly well-bred manner, Ishmael approached and took his seat at the table.  The judge took his crutch and set it up in the corner, saying: 

“I see you have discarded one crutch, my boy!  You will be able to discard the other in a day or so.”

“Yes, sir; I only retain this one in compliance with the injunctions of the doctor, who declares that I must not bear full weight upon the injured limb yet,” replied Ishmael courteously.

No one could have supposed from the manner of the youth that he had not been accustomed to mingle on equal terms in the best society.

Claudia poured out the tea.  She was not deficient in courtesy; but she could not bring herself, as yet, to speak to Ishmael with her usual ease and freedom.  When tea was over she excused herself and retired.  Claudia was not accustomed to seek Divine help.  And so, in one of the greatest straits of her moral experience, without one word of prayer, she threw herself upon her bed, where she lay tossing about, as yet too agitated with mental conflict to sleep.

Ishmael improved in health and grew in favor with his employer.  He walked daily from his chamber to the library without the aid of a crutch.  He took his meals with the family.  And oh! ruinous extravagance, he wore his Sunday suit every day!  There was no help for it, since he must sit in the judge’s library and eat at the judge’s table.

Claudia treated him well; with the inconsistency of girlish nature, since she had felt such a revulsion towards him, and despite of it resolved to be kind to him, she went to the extreme and treated him better than ever.

The judge was unchanged in his manner to the struggling youth.

And so the time went on and the month of November arrived.

Ishmael kept the Rushy Shore schoolhouse in mind.  Up to this time no schoolmaster had been found to undertake its care.  And Ishmael resolved if it should remain vacant until his engagement with the judge should be finished, he would then take it himself.

All this while Ishmael, true to the smallest duty, had not neglected Reuben Gray’s account-books.  They had been brought to him by Gray every week to be posted up.  But it was the second week in November before Ishmael was able to walk to Woodside to see Hannah’s babes, now fine children of nearly three months of age.  Of course Ishmael, in the geniality of his nature, was delighted with them; and equally, of course, he delighted their mother with their praises.