Carice laid her hand upon his arm. "As you were just saying," said she, gently, "he is my father. And, dear uncle, a daughter's ear is easily hurt." The Major stopped, and nearly choked himself with the sentence so suddenly arrested on his lips. "Then, what are you here for?" he finally blurted out, half-wonderingly, half-sternly. "Ah!" exclaimed Carice, in a tone of sudden recollection, "I had nearly forgotten my errand, in the pleasure of seeing you." The Major's face grew soft again. He put his hands on Carice's shoulders, turned her toward the full moonlight, and looked long and earnestly in her face. "How beautiful you have grown!" said he, with even more of wonder than admiration in his voice; "I am not sure but that you are still more beautiful than _she_ was. But you don't look as if you belonged to this earth, child; and there's not a bit of the family look left in you. Are you certain that you are Carice Bergan, and not a changeling?" "Quite sure, uncle," she answered, smiling, "Ask Rosa, there, if I am not." She pointed to her maid, who had accompanied her, and stood waiting near. "Then, Miss Bergan," said the Major, making her a courtly bow, "what can your old uncle do for you?" "Nothing, at present," she replied, "except to let me keep my own, old corner in his heart. I only came to see Maumer Rue, if I may. We heard she was dying. So I begged hard to be allowed to come and tell her that I had not forgotten how kind she used to be to me, and to see if I could do anything for her. I fancied it would please her to see me, if she is still able to recognize me. Is she?" "Perfectly able," replied Major Bergan, "and will be, I hope, for years to come. She has been very ill, but she is much better. She is now asleep." "Then I will not disturb her," returned Carice. "And yet, I am loath to go back without a glimpse of her. Could I not look in upon her for one moment? I will be sure not to make a sound." Major Bergan led her to Rue's cabin, and waited on the threshold, while, with her finger on her lips, to guard against any outburst of astonishment from the negro woman in attendance, she stole softly to the bedside, and bent over the sleeping Rue. A wondrously lovely picture she made there,--a picture of such unearthly grace, delicacy, and purity, that the Major's eyes filled with unconscious moisture as he gazed. Suddenly Rue's lips parted, in a dream, "The Bergan star!" said she. "See! it rises!" And, after a moment, she added, decidedly, "He _shall_ have Bergan Hall!" Carice quickly stole out to her uncle. His face looked very gloomy, as he led her back toward the cottage. "Carice," said he, suddenly, "have you seen your Western cousin?" "Bergan Arling? Yes, certainly," she answered. "How do you like him?" "He seems very pleasant," she replied, evasively. "Seems!" repeated her uncle, gruffly. "What is the matter with him?" "I do not know, uncle. It is said that he is very dissipated."