her until she had stood near him some
minutes. Then offering her his hand he said, with the utmost
nonchalance, "Why, Ella, are you here? I was watching so anxiously for
your sister that I did not notice your entrance."

Ella had dressed herself for the party with more than usual care, and
as she smoothed down the folds of her delicate pink silk, and shook
back her long glossy curls, she thought, "He cannot think Mary
handsomer than I am to-night;" and now when the first remark he
addressed to her was concerning her sister, she replied rather
pettishly, "I believe you are always thinking about Mary."

"Now, don't be jealous," returned Henry, "I only wish to see the
contrast between you."

Ella fancied that the preference would of course be in her favor, and
casting aside all unpleasant feelings, she exerted herself to the
utmost to keep Henry at her side, asking him numberless questions, and
suddenly recollecting something which she wished to tell him, if he
made a movement towards leaving her.

"Confound it. How tight she sticks to a fellow," thought he, "but I'll
get away from her yet."

Just then Ida and Mary were announced. Both Aunt Martha and Ida had
taken great pains to have their young friend becomingly dressed, and
she looked unusually well in the embroidered muslin skirt, satin
waist, and blonde bertha which Aunt Martha had insisted upon her
accepting as a present. The rich silken braids of her luxuriant hair
were confined at the back of her finely formed head with a golden
arrow, which, with the exception of a plain band of gold on each
wrist, was the only ornament she wore. This was her first introduction
to the gay world, but so keen was her perception of what was polite
and proper, that none would ever have suspected it and yet there was
about her something so fresh and unstudied, that she had hardly
entered the room ere many were struck with her easy, unaffected
manners, so different from the practised airs of the city belles.

Ella watched her narrowly, whispering aside to Henry how sorry she
felt for poor Mary, she was so _verdant_, and really hoping she
wouldn't do any thing very awkward, for 'twould mortify her to death!
"but, look," she added, "and see how many people Ida is introducing
her to."

"Of course, why shouldn't she?" asked Henry; and Ella replied, "I
don't know,--it seems so funny to see Mary here, don't it?"

Before Henry could answer, a young man of his acquaintance touched his