And clusters there in many a ring,
With sun and summer glistening.
Yet something on that brow has wrought
A moment's cast of angry thought."
In an arbor of Major Howard's elegant garden, the moonlight shimmering its rich, clustering vines with silver, and the night-breezes murmuring in low, musical voices among the dark green leaves, sat a man of commanding aspect and handsome features. Light auburn hair, closely trimmed, lay in short, thick masses of wavy curls around his high, pale brow. His mien and manner indicated the well-bred gentleman. A small, dark figure crouched beside him. It was Hannah Doliver.
"We meet again at last," said the man, after a considerable silence. His voice was low and deep, and the woman trembled as she answered,
"I marvel how you have discovered me."
"Few things escape my knowledge which it subserves my interest to know," returned he. "What in the name of all the fiends possessed you to enter the service of Tom Howard?"
"A lone, forsaken female finds shelter where she can," whined the woman.
"O, don't babble in that hypocritical tone!" said the man. "I did not leave you so destitute; and I took the child off your hands that no incumbrance might fetter your footsteps."