81, 83, & 85 Centre St., N. Y.
CONTENTS.
| CHAPTER | PAGE | |
|---|---|---|
| I.— | An Old Letter | [5] |
| II.— | The Skeleton in the Garret | [11] |
| III.— | Dr. Forest at Home | [17] |
| IV.— | One of Dr. Forest’s Patients | [25] |
| V.— | The Tattooing | [37] |
| VI.— | Clara at Stonybrook College | [45] |
| VII.— | Dan’s Business Operations | [54] |
| VIII.— | Philosophy Vanquished | [64] |
| IX.— | The Lion’s Den | [73] |
| X.— | Clara’s Return.—The Drama in the Doctor’s Study | [83] |
| XI.— | Faith and Works | [98] |
| XII.— | Clara Decides Between Religion and Principle | [112] |
| XIII.— | Papa’s Own Girl | [122] |
| XIV.— | Dan’s Money Returned.—The Doctor Conquered | [132] |
| XV.— | The Doctor’s Letter.—Dan Rejected | [144] |
| XVI.— | The Visit of the Delanos | [152] |
| XVII.— | Costly Grapes | [165] |
| XVIII.— | How Dan got Married | [175] |
| XIX.— | The Baby.—Lovers’ Adieux | [187] |
| XX.— | Clara’s Wedding | [199] |
| XXI.— | The Nucleus of the Flower Business | [208] |
| XXII.— | The First Cloud | [220] |
| XXIII.— | The Invitation to the White Mountains | [236] |
| XXIV.— | A Spasmodic Movement of Love | [244] |
| XXV.— | Letters.—A Conversation | [253] |
| XXVI.— | The Crisis | [266] |
| XXVII.— | The Sanctity of Marriage | [278] |
| XXVIII.— | The Effect of Dr. Delano’s Forgiveness | [291] |
| XXIX.— | The Count von Frauenstein | [301] |
| XXX.— | Out of the Jaws of Death | [314] |
| XXXI.— | Into a Better World | [330] |
| XXXII.— | The Distinguished Visitor | [343] |
| XXXIII.— | Legitimate, or Illegitimate | [360] |
| XXXIV.— | The Slave of the Lamp | [375] |
| XXXV.— | The Slave of the Lamp Obeys | [387] |
| XXXVI.— | The Count’s Speech to his Workmen | [405] |
| XXXVII.— | Poetic Retribution.—Grog-Sellers Interviewed by Women | [425] |
| XXXVIII.— | Progress of the Work | [441] |
| XXXIX.— | An Honest Woman | [459] |
| XL.— | Under the Orange-blossoms | [473] |
| XLI.— | After the Orange-blossoms | [492] |
| XLII.— | A Visit to the Social Palace | [507] |
| XLIII.— | The Inauguration of the Social Palace | [523] |
| XLIV.— | The Birth of the Heir | [538] |
PAPA’S OWN GIRL.
CHAPTER I.
AN OLD LETTER.
* * * * I was seven years old when they came—those mysterious little red-faced sisters, which the day before were nowhere in the universe, and the next had sprung up before my bewildered young eyes, full dressed in long white gowns, and looking every way as exactly alike as did the objects I used to see double by “crossing my eyes” as we called it; a habit that brought me many a reprimand.
We lived then, as you know, in L——, Massachusetts, and I looked upon the advent of the little creatures on that fine September morning as the most wonderful stroke of fortune; but I remember that my mother, lying very pale and still among her pillows, watched my delight with sad eyes, and then turned her face wearily to the wall. Aunt Patty, the dear old Goody, long since sleeping in the village churchyard, entered kindly into my childish enthusiasm, turning up the skirts of the white dresses, and then unfolding a mass of soft flannel, finally exposed the velvety little feet, whose pink toes moved incessantly, as if enamored of the air. I very soon grew so boisterous in my delight that I had to be sent ignominiously from the room. I went immediately in search of my brother Dan, a handsome, rough fellow, whom I found in the kitchen busily employed with his fishing tackle; for the unusual excitement in the house afforded him an opportunity to sly off to the river, where mother had forbidden him to go on pain of severe penalties. I began eagerly imparting the news.
“O, pshaw! I know all about it,” interrupted Dan. The statement surprised me, but I accepted it as pure truth, as I generally did all that he said. He was some years older than I, and I considered him a superior being—at least everywhere except in school; there, even a partial sister’s eyes had to see that he was a dunce; though a good-natured one, and a great favorite. He was indefatigable in “coasting” the girls and the little boys in winter, and he had a rough humor that pleased them all. I remember that, at the beginning of one of our winter terms, the master had offered a prize to the one who should leave off at the head of the spelling class the greatest number of times. On the last day of school I received the prize, flushed with proud delight, standing at the head of the long line of pupils. Dan was at the very foot, as usual, and the teacher took occasion to reprove him for his bad lessons and his want of ambition in trying for the prize.
“Why, I almost got it,” said Dan.
“Almost!” echoed the teacher angrily; for we all knew that Dan had not left off at the head a single day.