will not let her perceive that in many of the affairs of domestic life, Mrs. Aumerle, as she had wider experience, has also clearer judgment than herself. I represent advice from a step-mother as interference, reproof from a step-mother as persecution, and draw Ida to seek a sphere of her own as distinct as possible from that of the woman whom her father has chosen for his wife.” “Doubtless you occasionally remind the fair maid,” suggested Intemperance, “that but for her own heroic unworldliness she might have been a peeress of the realm.” “I neglect nothing,” answered Pride, “that can serve to elevate the spirit of one whom I seek to enslave. I have need of caution and reserve, though hitherto I have met with success, for it is no easy task thoroughly to blind a conscience once enlightened like that of Ida. She does even now in hours of self-examination reproach herself for a feeling towards Mrs. Aumerle which almost approaches dislike. She feels that her own peace is disturbed; for the lightest breath of sin can cloud the bright mirror of such a soul. But in such hours I hover near. I draw the penitent’s attention from her own faults to those of the woman she loves not, till I make her pity herself where she should blame, and account the burden which _I_ have laid upon her as a cross appointed by Heaven.” “O Pride, Pride!” exclaimed Intemperance with a burst of admiration, “I am a child in artifice compared with you!” “Rest assured that when any young mortal is disposed to look down upon one placed above her by the will of a higher power, that pride is lingering near.” “And by what name may you be known in this particular phase of your being?” inquired Intemperance. “The pride of self-will in the language of truth; but Ida would call me _sensitiveness_,” replied the dark spirit with a gloomy smile. CHAPTER III. SNARES. “But what are sun and moon, and this revolving ball Compared with _Him_ who thus supports them all; Whose attributes, all-infinite, transcend Whate’er the mind can reach, or mortal apprehend! Whose words drew light from chaos drear and dark, Whose goodness smoothes this state of toil and trouble, Compared with it—the sun is as a spark— The boundless ocean a mere empty bubble!” HENRY ST. GEORGE TUCKER. “The pastor and his wife I see approaching the church,” observed Intemperance, glancing down in the direction of the path along which advanced a rather stout lady, with large features and high complexion, who was leaning on the arm of a tall, handsome, but rather heavily-built man, in whose mild, dark eyes might be traced a resemblance to those of his daughter. “They come early,” said Pride; “he, to prepare for service; his wife, to hear the school children rehearse the hymns appointed for the day. This was once Ida’s weekly care; she is far more qualified for the charge than her step-mother, and the music has suffered from the change.”