Salome ground her teeth to suppress a cry of vexation; and, to conceal her impatience, joined heartily in the search. Finally she found the glasses on the front steps, where they had fallen when their owner left the carriage; and, feeling that adverse fate could no longer keep her in suspense, she hurried into the house and adjusted them on Miss Jane's eagle nose. Conscious that she was fast losing control over the nerves that were quivering from long-continued tension, Salome stepped to the open window and stood waiting. Would the old lady never finish the perusal? The minutes seemed hours, and the pulsing of the blood in the girl's ears sounded like muttering thunder. Miss Jane sighed heavily,--cleared her throat, and sighed again. "It is very sad, indeed! It is too bad,--too bad!" Salome turned around, and exclaimed, savagely,-- "Why can't you speak out? What is the matter? What has happened?" "Ulpian's friend is dead." "Thank God!" "For shame! How can you be so heartless?" "If the man could not recover I should think you would be glad that he is at rest, and that your brother can come home." "But the worst of the matter is that Ulpian is not coming home. Mr. Manton wished him to act as guardian for his daughter, who is in Europe, and Ulpian will sail in the next steamer for England, to attend to some business connected with the estate. It is too provoking, isn't it? He says it is impossible to tell when we shall see him again." There was no answer, and, when Miss Jane wiped her eyes and looked around, she saw the girl tottering towards the door, groping her way like one blind. "Salome,--come here, child!" But the figure disappeared in the hall, and when the moonlight looked into the orphan's chamber the soft rays showed a girlish form kneeling at the window, with a white face drenched by tears, and quivering lips that moaned in feeble, broken accents,-- "God help me! I might have known it, for I had a presentiment of terrible trouble when he went away. How can I trust God and be patient, while the Atlantic raves and surges between me and my idol? After all, it was an angel of mercy whose tender white hands held back this bitter blow for nine hours. Gone to Europe, and not one word--not one line--to me! Oh, my darling! you are trampling under your feet the heart that loves you better than everything else in the universe,--better than life, and its hopes of heaven!" CHAPTER VIII. "Salome, where did you learn to sing? I was astonished this morning when I heard you." "I have not yet learned,--I have only begun to practise." "But, my child, I had no idea you owned such a voice. Where have you kept it concealed so long?" "I was not aware that I had it until a month ago, when it accidentally discovered itself." "It is very powerful."