"I do not understand how you can bear to give up such an enchanting home, and go to hard work, as if you were driven to it from necessity."
"Do not go over all that beaten track again, if you please. It is not my home! I can be just as happy, nay, happier, in my little room."
"I doubt it," said Clara pertinaciously.
Stopping suddenly, and fixing her eyes steadily on her companion,
Beulah hastily asked:
"Clara Sanders, why should you care if my guardian and I are separated?"
A burning blush dyed cheek and brow, as Clara drooped her head, and answered:
"Because he is my friend also, and I know that your departure will grieve him."
"You overestimate my worth and his interest. He is a man who lives in a world of his own and needs no society, save such as is afforded in his tasteful and elegant home. He loves books, flowers, music, paintings, and his dog! He is a stern man, and shares his griefs and joys with no one. All this I have told you before."
There was a long silence, broken at last by an exclamation from
Beulah:
"Oh! how beautiful! how silent! how solemn! Look down the long dim aisles. It is an oratory where my soul comes to worship! Presently the breeze will rush up from the gulf, and sweep the green organ, and a melancholy chant will swell through these dusky arches. Oh, what are Gothic cathedrals and gilded shrines in comparison with these grand forest temples, where the dome is the bending vault of God's blue, and the columns are these everlasting pines!" She pointed to a thick clump of pines sloping down to a ravine.