"You will have a pleasant journey," said I. "You will find Margaret an entertaining companion."
"O yes!" he answered, with a slight shrug of the shoulders, "but I fear she will excite too much remark by her wild antics. I do not like to be noticed by strangers."
"She will accommodate herself to your wishes, I know she will. You have great influence over her."
"Me! oh no!" he cried, with equal surprise and simplicity.
"Yes, indeed you have. Talk to her rationally, as if you had confidence in her good-sense, Mr. Regulus, and you will really find some golden wheat buried in the chaff. Talk to her feelingly, as if you appealed to her sensibility, and you may discover springs where you believe no waters flow."
"It is like telling me to search for spring flowers, when the ground is all covered with snow,—to look at the moon shining, when the night is as dark as ebony. But I am thinking of you, Gabriella, more than of her. I rejoice to find you the same artless child of nature that sat at my feet years ago in the green-wood shade. But beautiful as is your palace home, I long to see you again in our lovely valley among the birds and the flowers. I long to see you on the green lawn of Grandison Place."
"I do feel more at home at Grandison Place," I answered. "I would give more for the velvet lawn, the dear old elm, the oaken avenue, than for all the magnificence of this princely mansion."
"But you are happy here, my child?"
"I have realized the brightest dreams of youth."
"God be praised!—and you have forgiven my past folly,—you think of me as preceptor, elder brother, friend."