'How fervent is my gratitude to my excellent departed friend for this! A
legacy, however trifling, embalms our dear lost ones in the memory!'

It was of no avail. Juliana continued densely stupid. Was she not worse?
The Countess could not, 'in decency,' as she observed, reveal to her who
had prompted Mrs. Bonner so to bequeath the Beckley estates as to 'ensure
sweet Juliana's future'; but ought not Juliana to divine it?--Juliana at
least had hints sufficient.

Cold Spring winds were now blowing. Juliana had resided no less than two
months with the Cogglesbys. She was entreated still to remain, and she
did. From Lady Jocelyn she heard not a word of remonstrance; but from
Miss Carrington and Mrs. Shorne she received admonishing letters.
Finally, Mr. Harry Jocelyn presented himself. In London, and without any
of that needful subsistence which a young gentleman feels the want of in
London more than elsewhere, Harry began to have thoughts of his own,
without any instigation from his aunts, about devoting himself to
business. So he sent his card up to his cousin, and was graciously met in
the drawing-room by the Countess, who ruffled him and smoothed him, and
would possibly have distracted his soul from business had his
circumstances been less straitened. Juliana was declared to be too unwell
to see him that day. He called a second time, and enjoyed a similar
greeting. His third visit procured him an audience alone with Juliana,
when, at once, despite the warnings of his aunts, the frank fellow
plunged, 'medias res'. Mrs. Bonner had left him totally dependent on his
parents and his chances.

'A desperate state of things, isn't it, Juley? I think I shall go for a
soldier--common, you know.'

Instead of shrieking out against such a debasement of his worth and
gentility, as was to be expected, Juliana said:

'That's what Mr. Harrington thought of doing.'

'He! If he'd had the pluck he would.'

'His duty forbade it, and he did not.'

'Duty! a confounded tailor! What fools we were to have him at Beckley!'

'Has the Countess been unkind to you Harry?'

'I haven't seen her to-day, and don't want to. It's my little dear old
Juley I came for.'

'Dear Harry!' she thanked him with eyes and hands. 'Come often, won't
you?'

'Why, ain't you coming back to us, Juley?'

'Not yet. They are very kind to me here. How is Rose?'

'Oh, quite jolly. She and Ferdinand are thick again. Balls every night.
She dances like the deuce. Th