Five years had made very little alteration here, excepting in the case of Jacquelina, who had grown up to be the most enchanting sprite that ever bewitched the hearts, or turned the heads of men. She was petite, slight, agile, graceful; clustering curls of shining gold encircled a round, white forehead, laughing in light; springs under springs of fun and frolic sparkled up from the bright, blue eyes, whose flashing light flew bird-like everywhere, but rested nowhere. She seemed even less human and irresponsible than when a child--verily a being of the air, a fairy, without human thoughtfulness, or sympathy, or affections! She only seemed so--under all that fay-like levity there was a heart. Poor heart! little food or cultivation had it had in all its life. For who had been Jacquelina's educators? First, there was the commodore, with his alternations of blustering wrath and foolish fondness, giving way to his anger, or indulging his love, without the slightest regard to the effect produced upon his young ward--too often abusing her for something really admirable in her nature--and full as frequently praising her for something proportionately reprehensible in her conduct. Next, there was the dark, and solemn, and fanatical Dr. Grimshaw, her destined bridegroom, who really and truly loved the child to fatuity, and conscientiously did the very best he could for her mental and moral welfare, according to his light. Alas! "when the light that is in one is darkness, how great is that darkness!" Jacquelina rewarded his serious efforts with laughter, and flattered him with the pet names of Hobgoblin, Ghoul, Gnome, Ogre, etc. Yet she did not dislike her solemn suitor--she never had taken the matter so seriously as that! And he on his part bore the eccentricities of the elf with matchless patience, for he loved her, as I said, to fatuity--doted on her with a passion that increased with ripening years, and of late consumed him like a fever. And then there was her mother, last named because, whatever she should have been, she really was the least important of Jacquelina's teachers. Fear was the key-note of Mrs. L'Oiseau's character--the key-stone in the arch of her religious faith--she feared everything--the opinion of the world, the unfaithfulness of friends, changes in the weather, reverses of fortune, pain, sickness, sorrow, want, labor! Now the time had not yet come for this proposed marriage to shock the merry maiden. She was "ower young to marry yet." So thought not the commodore; for a year past, since his niece had attained the age of fourteen, he had been worrying himself and the elders of the family to have the marriage solemnized, "before the little devil shall have time to get some other notion into her erratic head," he said. All were opposed to him, holding over his head the only rod he dreaded, the opinion of the world. "What would people say if you were to marry your niece of fourteen to a man of thirty-four?" they urged.