"Your father, dear," answered my mother, and again the mark between her brows became ominously perceptible. "There is your piano, Frank,--you'll find it something better than the one which you had at the good parson's." The servant led the way, up the wide stairway, thickly carpeted, to the upper rooms. Here the magnificence of the first floor was repeated on a grander, a more luxurious scale. We passed through room after room, my eyes dazzled by new signs of wealth and luxury at every step. At last we paused on the thick carpet of a spacious bed-chamber, whose appointments combined the richest elegance with the nicest taste. It was hung with curtains of light azure. An exquisite and touching picture of the Virgin Mary confronted the toilette table and mirror. A bed with coverlet white as snow, satin covered pillows and canopy of lace, stood in one corner; and wherever I turned there were signs of neatness, taste and elegance. I could not too much admire the apartment. "It is your bedroom, my dear," said my mother, silently enjoying my delight. "Why," said I laughingly,--"it is grand enough for a queen." "And are you not a queen," answered my mother, "and a very beautiful one." Turning to the servant, who stood staring at me with eyes big as saucers, she said-- "Tell Mrs. Jenkins, the housekeeper, to come here:"--Jones left the chamber, and presently returned with Mrs. Jenkins, a portly lady, with a round, good-humored face. "Frank, this is _your_ housekeeper;"--Mrs. Jenkins simpered and courtsied, shaking at the same time the bundle of keys at her waist. "Mrs. Jenkins, this is your young mistress, Miss Van Huyden. Give me the keys." She took the keys from the housekeeper, and placed them in my hands: "My dear, this house and all that it contains are yours, I surrender it to your charge." Scarcely knowing what to do with myself I took the keys--which were heavy enough--and handing them back to Mrs. Jenkins, "hoped that she would continue to superintend the affairs of my mansion, as heretofore." All of which pleased my mother and made her smile. "We will go to dinner without dressing," and my mother led the way down stairs to the dining-room. It was a large apartment, in the center of which stood a luxuriously furnished table, glittering with gold plate. Servants in livery stood like statues behind my chair and my mother's. How different from the plain fare and simple style of the good clergyman's home! Nay how widely contrasted with the rude dinner in a log cabin to which Ernest and myself sat down a few hours ago! In vain I tried to partake of the rich dishes set out before me; I was too much excited to eat. Dinner over, coffee was served, and the servants retired. Mother and I were left alone.