I reluctantly resumed my seat. Joseph also replaced his hat in the hall, and stood looking from the window. "We must hasten our departure," said I. "Pauline is growing very nervous, which cannot be wondered at. Joseph," said I, addressing him, "I almost regret having followed your advice, to tell her she was not my own child. She grows thinner and paler every day."
For a moment, Joseph remained silent, and I was almost vexed that he was not more interested for Pauline, when he replied, in an unnatural voice, "Cora, I hardly think you are aware what you say. Would you have had her marry her brother?"
His tone conveyed such bitter reproof that my eyes filled with tears. For the first time, he turned from the window, and looked at me. I saw, with surprise, that he was very pale. He approached, holding out his hand, "forgive me, cousin; I spoke harshly; but wouldn't it be better for you to go to Pauline? She may not like to have Eugene witness her grief."
"Why?" I asked. "She is very fond of her brother."
He walked quickly across the floor. "You forget," said he in a hoarse voice, "how lately she loved him as her future husband. I have seen the struggle in her mind, to overcome such an affection, or rather to change it to the calm, though deep affection of a sister."
I looked at Joseph earnestly, as he walked back and forth across the room, with knitted brow and closely shut lips, and tried to discover the cause of his agitation. At length he stopped before me, and said, "will you go to her?"
"Yes," I replied, laying aside my work. As I went above, I heard him leave the house.
When I entered the school-room, I found Pauline sitting with her head resting on her brother's shoulder, while his arm was around her. She had ceased weeping, but still looked very sad. "Mamma," said Eugene, "I've been telling her how very naughty it is for her to feel sorrow, and not allow me to share it with her. She won't even tell me what makes her weep." Pauline put her handkerchief quickly to her face to hide the tears which were streaming unbidden down her cheeks. I motioned to him to leave her with me. He kissed her tenderly and went below. I then led the weeping girl into my own room, and having fastened the door, I sat by her side, and begged her to tell me what had afflicted her.
"There is a shadow far within your eye,
Which hath of late been deepening. You were wont