"I should like to know what flower you call insignificant," said Charlotte; "not this little houstonia, I hope; that has a perfection of organization in which many of your splendid green-house flowers are deficient. But that is the way with us: we call those things sublime which are on a large scale, because they are magnified to our narrow minds, and we can comprehend them without any trouble.--But I must not display all my wisdom to you at once--how, like Solomon of old, I can speak of trees, from 'the cedar-tree that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall.'--And now, fair sister, 'Up, up, and quit your books,' and come with me to one of my studios--namely, my poultry-yard. I hear the bipeds clamorous for their supper." "This is the woman," thought Frances, "that I have sometimes wondered Howard, with his reflecting mind, could select as his partner for life! Because I saw her, like the Deity she worships, attending to the most minute affairs, I foolishly imagined she comprehended no others." From this time the two sisters resembled in union Shakspeare's twin cherries growing on one stem. CHAPTER III. The furniture arrived, and the country residence was very soon in order. Howard took the direction of the farming part. But it was no object to Frances to have much ploughing or planting. She loved the "green pastures and still waters," and often repeated those beautiful lines of the hymn-- "To dewy vales and flowery meads, My weary, fainting steps he leads, Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow, Amid the verdant landscape flow." Clyde Farm was a singularly retired spot, notwithstanding its vicinity to a country village, which, on a straight line, was about two miles from it. But there was a high hill between, that belonged to the farm, and was crowned with oak and chestnut trees; while here and there was an opening which gave a perfect view of the village, with its church, academy, and square four-story tavern, with windows enough to give it the appearance of a huge lantern. The high road was a mile from the house, and no dwelling was nearer. The hill overlooked one of those New England landscapes that could not be wrought into a well-composed picture; objects were too abundant; it was dotted with farms and sheets of water; and beyond, the beautiful Merrimac wound its way. On this spot, Frances had a little open pavilion erected, and it was her resort at sunset. As her health improved, her mind opened to the impressions of happiness, and she grew almost gay. "There is but one thing more," said she to her brother and sister, "that I now desire in this world." "Always one thing wanting for us poor mortals!" said Charlotte; "but let us hear what it is." "That my husband, who is the liberal donor of my enjoyment, should partake of it." "Pray be contented," replied she, "and let him enjoy himself in his own way."