dry.
There was a certain air of solid comfort and good taste in our home. It
had descended from the times of my father-in-law, and had been kept up
by us.

With good judgment, Annette thought that the very best site had been
selected for our house. The hill beyond the hollow at the back of the
house protected us on three sides, but was not near enough to deprive
us of fresh air, or to keep out the gentle breezes that would come up
from the valley after sunset and carry away the miasmatic vapors, thus
affording us healthful and refreshing sleep during the night. A barn,
which the meadow farmer had so placed that it destroyed part of the
view down the valley, was a great eyesore to Annette.

She asked Richard why the air with us was so cool and invigorating, and
was very grateful when he explained the theory of the dew-fall to her.

She was full of charming ingenuousness, for she once said. "I do not
doubt that you enjoy the singing of the birds, but I honestly confess
that I do not. It is pleasant to know that the little animal up in the
trees is so joyful; but, nevertheless, there is no beauty in tones
without connection or expression. I find that there are no more tones
in the scale of the finch than in that of the barn-yard rooster; and
why do we prefer the notes of the finch?"

Richard often felt annoyed that Annette was constantly keeping every
one about her on pins and needles, and seemed to desire his special
approval of all that she did. He maintained that she was entirely
deficient in mental balance.

The temperaments of Annette and Bertha were in marked contrast to each
other.

When they were seated opposite each other and engaged in conversation,
Bertha would bend forward, while Annette would lean back in her chair,
as if immovable.

Bertha's mere presence exerted a grateful influence, while Annette felt
that she must always be doing something, in order to inspire others
with an interest in her.

Bertha, with all her affection for Martella, remained somewhat reserved
towards her, while Annette was open and confiding, as with a sister.
She was incapable of any other relations than those of perfect intimacy
or absolute indifference.

Richard noticed all these peculiarities, and when he mentioned them to
me, I was almost startled to find how carefully he had been observing
Annette.

He was obliged, however, to agree with my wife when she said,
"Annette's habit of requiring her friends to interest th