Ah! even Edgar’s heart would have been touched by the tears which gushed from the happy eyes of that mother—by the voice choked with sobs, which murmured thanks and prayers for blessing. They parted, Emily and Mrs. Revere, like the friends of years, and not as acquaintances of a few short weeks, and over the hand fondly clasping her own, Emily promised to care for the white rose-buds, blossoming in the early summer over the lone grave of Elise, and sometimes to see the sunset light falling rosy and warm upon the pale marble that bore her name.
Mr. Hastings, who was well known, received from the gallant captain a promise to take special charge of the Italian and her aged parent, and to care for the much valued picture. Again thanks and farewells, and the father and daughter entered their carriage and drove away.
When Emily reached home, she found an elegant note from Edgar Loring, requesting permission to call upon her that evening. Ah! a few short weeks ago, how her heart would have fluttered at those words! Now, going up to her room she seated herself at her beautiful escritoir, and penned the following words —
“Mr. Loring—I have this moment come in, and found your note awaiting me. A previous engagement will prevent my receiving the honor of a call from you this evening. Enclosed you will find a check for $200, which my father requests me to forward to you in payment for the portrait of Elise Revere.
Emily Hastings.”
In ten days from that time Edgar Loring had left the city—he had gone to seek his fortunes in the far South.
VIEW OF BURLINGTON VERMONT.
FROM AN ORIGINAL DRAWING