A feeling of indignation stirred in Wallingford's bosom; but he repressed the bitter feeling, and moved on without giving any intimation that the offensive remark had reached him. As soon as this decree, authorizing a sale of the property, was made, Mrs. Montgomery began to make preparation for removal. At first she seemed inclined to favor a return to England; but after repeated conferences with Mr. Wallingford, she finally concluded to remain in this country. Nearly three years had woven their many colored web of events, since Mrs. Montgomery had dropped down suddenly among us like a being from cloudland. The friendly relation established between us in the beginning, had continued, growing more and more intimate. My good Constance found in her a woman after her own heart. “The days I spend at the Allen House,” she would often say to me, “are days to be remembered. I meet with no one who lives in so pure and tranquil an atmosphere as Mrs. Montgomery. An hour with her lifts me above the petty cares and selfish struggles of this life, and fills my mind with longings after those higher things into which all must rise before that peace comes to the soul which passeth all understanding. I return home from these interviews, happier in mind, and stronger for life's duties. I do not know any term that so clearly expresses my idea of this lady, as Christian philosopher.” Occasionally Mrs. Montgomery would pay us a visit; and these also were times treasured up in my wife's remembrance. I always observed a certain elevation of feeling, a calmer spirit, and a more loving sphere about her after one of these pleasant seasons. The daughter came very often. Our children loved her almost as much as they did their mother, and she seemed as happy with them, as if they were her own flesh and blood. Agnes, our oldest, now in her eighth year, almost lived at the Allen House. Blanche never came without taking her home with her, and often kept her for two or three days at a time. Blanche had developed into a young woman of almost queenly beauty; yet her manners retained the easy grace and truthfulness of a child. She did not seem conscious of her remarkable personal attractions, nor of the admiration her presence always extorted. No one could meet her, as a stranger, without feeling that she stood removed from ordinary contact--a being of superior mould with whom familiarity was presumption.