The parson departed, and Gusty releasing his mother, snatched up his infant sister, Rose, and began to cover her with caresses and praises by way of diverting the storm of maternal grief and resentment, that he felt too ready to break over his head. Emily was weeping bitterly, until, seeing _his_ grief and embarrassment, she arose and fell upon his shoulder, exclaiming, “Oh, Gusty! Gusty! you have destroyed the labor and the hopes of many years and cares. You have nearly broken my heart—but you are welcome, nevertheless! Welcome, welcome, my boy!” “Mother! _don’t_, now _don’t_—don’t make me _feel_ like a brute, when I _know_ I have behaved like a man!” said Gusty, setting down the child, and returning his mother’s embrace. “I have not merited this misfortune, mother; and I know that therefore, sooner or later, it will turn out well!” “Ah! but, Gusty, it is _such_ a blow! and you did nothing to avert, and will do nothing to remedy it! _Why_ did you not, why _do_ you not, even now, hasten to Washington, and petition to be reinstated?” “I would see the whole United States Navy swamped first, mother! No, much as I honor my flag, I honor myself more! and God most!” “Ah, Gusty! ‘God helps those who help themselves,’ is a very true proverb.” “May be so—but I’ll improve upon that, ‘God helps those who help their neighbors!’ I have Scripture for _that_, mother; ‘Cast thy bread upon the waters, and after many days it shall return, and whoso giveth, _lendeth_ to the Lord.’ Come, mother, I lost my commission by doing a higher duty than any I owed my flag, and so I am not uneasy; but, mother, you have not once inquired after Hagar, who landed last night in the midst of the storm, and who is now at the Hall.” “Well! how should I be able to think of Hagar, when I have so many anxieties on your account, unfortunate boy? but how is Hagar, then?” “Recovering slowly, but _very_ slowly; will you not go over to see her, then, this afternoon?” Emily was silent and thoughtful, and sooth to say, rather displeased at the proposition. “Will you not, mother? Come, mother; when you see Hagar, so wretched, so ill, so changed, your unjust displeasure with her will be dissipated; you should not indeed feel angry with her because she was the involuntary, the unconscious cause of my misfortune, which she does not even know of yet—thinking I am on furlough—and do not tell her, mother.” “Yes, but I see no _reason_ for all this wretchedness. I knew that Hagar madly loved her husband, but I do not see why his leaving her for two years should cause her to lose the power of directing her own life, and so cause you to lose all the hopes and prospects of yours.”