"Is he ill, sir?"
"He has been, and is yet quite feeble. Do you like him?"
"I know nothing of him, except that he spoke to me one evening some months ago. Does he live here, sir?"
"No; he has a plantation on the river, but is here on a visit occasionally. Much of his life has been spent in Europe, and thither he goes again very soon."
The sun had set. The bay seemed a vast sheet of fire, as the crimson clouds cast their shifting shadows on its bosom; and, forgetting everything else, Beulah leaned out of the buggy, and said almost unconsciously:
"How beautiful! how very beautiful!" Her lips were parted; her eyes clear and sparkling with delight. Dr. Hartwell sighed, and, turning from the bay road, approached his home. Beulah longed to speak to him of what was pressing on her heart; but, glancing at his countenance to see whether it was an auspicious time, she was deterred by the somber sternness which overshadowed it, and before she could summon courage to speak, they stopped at the front gate.
"Jump out, and go home; I have not time to drive in."
She got out of the buggy, and, looking up at him as he rose to adjust some part of the harness, said bravely:
"I am very much obliged to you for my ride. I have not had such a pleasure for years. I thank you very much."
"All very unnecessary, child. I am glad you enjoyed it."