She softly smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead. She was a noble-looking woman, with a tranquil countenance that betokened a serene, cloudless soul; and as she stood beside her husband, his eyes rested on her face with an expression bordering on adoration. Beulah could not avoid wondering why such women were so very rare, and the thought presented itself with painful force, "If Cornelia Graham and I had had such mothers, we might both have been happier and better." Probably something of what crossed her mind crept into her countenance, for the doctor asked laughingly:
"In the name of Venus! what are you screwing up your lips and looking so ugly about?"
"I suppose one reason is that I must go home." She rose, with a suppressed sigh.
"I am disposed to think it much more probable that you were envying me my wife. Come, confess."
"I was wishing that I had such a mother."
With some sudden impulse she threw her arms round Mrs. Asbury's neck, and hid her face on her shoulder.
"Then let me be your mother, my dear child," said she, pressing the girl affectionately to her heart and kissing her pale cheek.
"Are you troubled about anything, my dear?" continued Mrs. Asbury, surprised at this manifestation of feeling in one usually so cold and reserved.
"An orphan heart mourns its dead idols," answered Beulah, raising her hand and withdrawing from the kind arm that encircled her. Mrs. Asbury interpreted a quick glance from her husband, and did not press the matter further; but, at parting, she accompanied Beulah to the front door, and earnestly assured her that if she could in any way advise or assist her she would consider it both a privilege and a pleasure to do so. Returning to the library, she laid her soft hand on her husband's arm, and said anxiously:
"George, what is the matter with her?"