“Yes, mother, give my portion to her; I can take care of myself, and you shall not want for anything so long as I can help you. I do not know how we can let her go, but it is for the best. She will learn of this world, and they will learn of another.”
As the two had been speaking, they had not observed a light form, reclining under a flowering currant, which only separated them from the object of their conversation. It was a little arbor, formed by a clustering rose, vieing with the flowering currant in fragrance; thither had the Sea-flower repaired, and as the softest rays of a northern sky, at sunset, sank into her soul, mingling with more mellow light than is of southern climes, these words fell upon her ear,—“Natalie, she is not my sister by birth.” She paused to hear no more, for she knew the conversation was not designed for her, and noiselessly gliding from the spot, she sought her own room. The crescent moon came forth, and beheld the fair maiden gazing far out over the silver-edged billows, her head resting upon her hand, her golden tresses falling gracefully over her shoulders, while from the deep recesses of her heart there sprung up that which had ever been, and yet was not, and took to itself a form.
“Good morning, Natalie, did I not know you retired early last night, I should say you look a little unrefreshed. Where are the roses of yesterday? they should not fade in a single night”
“Roses will fade, mother, and there are those which await the genial rays of light before their unfolding,” replied Sea-flower; “but I did not retire until quite late last evening, for everything was so beautiful and glad, that I loved to look out upon the night; and such beautiful thoughts came to my mind, that I think I must have fallen asleep, and dreamed; and yet I was awake, for I was conscious of watching the water, as it sparkled in the moonlight. As the waves broke upon the shore, they seemed to be striving, one with another, to see which should venture the nearest, till at last there came one, which lifted its head high above the rest, and as it receded, I saw there was left upon the beach a tiny, shining thing, which resembled many drops of dew. Just then the light clouds separated, and there looked down a star, so mild, and presently there came another, equally mild, and the two finally blended into one, still hovering over the glittering one upon the beach. At last there seemed to be a stream of light connecting