"I am not addicted to worshiping anything but God!" answered Beulah shortly. "You are an odd compound, Beulah. Sometimes I think you must be utterly heartless!" "Thank you!" "Don't be hurt. But you are so cold, so freezing; you chill me." "Do I? Dr. Hartwell (your Delphic oracle, it seems) says I am as fierce as a tropical tornado." "I do not understand how you can bear to give up such an enchanting home, and go to hard work, as if you were driven to it from necessity." "Do not go over all that beaten track again, if you please. It is not my home! I can be just as happy, nay, happier, in my little room." "I doubt it," said Clara pertinaciously. Stopping suddenly, and fixing her eyes steadily on her companion, Beulah hastily asked: "Clara Sanders, why should you care if my guardian and I are separated?" A burning blush dyed cheek and brow, as Clara drooped her head, and answered: "Because he is my friend also, and I know that your departure will grieve him." "You overestimate my worth and his interest. He is a man who lives in a world of his own and needs no society, save such as is afforded in his tasteful and elegant home. He loves books, flowers, music, paintings, and his dog! He is a stern man, and shares his griefs and joys with no one. All this I have told you before." There was a long silence, broken at last by an exclamation from Beulah: "Oh! how beautiful! how silent! how solemn! Look down the long dim aisles. It is an oratory where my soul comes to worship! Presently the breeze will rush up from the gulf, and sweep the green organ, and a melancholy chant will swell through these dusky arches. Oh, what are Gothic cathedrals and gilded shrines in comparison with these grand forest temples, where the dome is the bending vault of God's blue, and the columns are these everlasting pines!" She pointed to a thick clump of pines sloping down to a ravine. The setting sun threw long quivering rays through the clustering boughs, and the broken beams, piercing the gloom beyond, showed the long aisles as in a "cathedral light." As Clara looked down the dim glade, and then watched Beulah's parted lips and sparkling eyes, as she stood bending forward with rapturous delight written on every feature, she thought that she had indeed misjudged her in using the epithets "freezing and heartless." "You are enthusiastic," said she gently. "How can I help it? I love the grand and beautiful too well to offer a tribute of silent admiration. Oh, my homage is that of a whole heart!"