“I do not say and did not mean that she was dependent for a roof to shelter her fair head, or a board to sit at, but if she has ever such a fortune she is a young, delicate, sensitive girl, and she _is_ dependent on some of us for a _home_, for kindness, tenderness, affection.” “She has all that, or will have all that with Sophie and Captain Wilde.” “Nevertheless let her feel that she is encompassed with affection—poor girl, she has no _parents_, let her feel that she has _friends_.” Hagar was again silent. Then he spoke. “What is your objection to our plan?” “We are going to board, as I understand, and so we have after all no home of our own to offer her.” “But we are _not_ going to board—I have changed my plan.” “Since when?” inquired Hagar, with a slightly sarcastic tone. “Since my tenant moved out of my house on the Hudson!” replied Raymond, coldly. “Oh! I did not know you owned a house anywhere.” “Probably _not_! you have no _means_ of knowing—you have just learned _that_ fact for the first time, as you will soon learn _others_, my love!” “What others?” sneered Hagar. “No matter now—invite Rosalia to come with us as I requested you, my dear, will you?” “Yes, I will—Raymond.” “Well, love?” “You seem very much charmed with Rosalia!” “I am—I could not tell you _how_ much charmed with her—she is a seraph!” “Raymond!” she spoke huskily now, “suppose you had met Rosalia before our marriage, even before our engagement?” “Well!” “Do you not think that you would have rather loved and wooed _her_ than _me_—that you, even now, were we free, would prefer her?” “Prefer her!” “Prefer her to _me_—could you not love Rosalia better than Hagar?” said she, speaking with great rapidity. “She is fair, full formed. I am small, thin, and dark. She is soft, gentle, sensitive. I am wild, fierce, and proud, proud to every one but _you_, Raymond. She is tender. I am hard. She is graceful. I am rude. She is all that is lovely, fascinating in form, features, temper, and manners. I am all that is repellent in person, character, and deportment—every one loves her—all dislike me.” “Hagar.” “Tell me, Raymond, have you not followed the stream in this general, this inevitable admiration and love?” “Hagar!” “Have you not claimed my hand too hastily? Do you not now regret it, wishing that you had waited longer and looked further—lamenting that you had not seen Rosalia while you were yet disengaged?” “_Hagar!_”