ssed between the kitchen, the garden, and the
drawing-room, ordering, aiding, and devising with a zeal and activity
that one might have supposed could only have been evoked in the service
of a much honored guest.

"Look at my table, George," said she, "before you go to dress for
dinner, and say if you ever saw anything more tasteful. There's a
bouquet for you; and see how gracefully I have twined the grape-leaves
round these flasks. You'll fancy yourself Horace entertaining Maecenas.
Mr. Cutbill is certainly not very like him--but no matter. Nor is our
little Monte Oliveto exactly Falernian."

"It is quite beautiful, Ju, all of it," said he, drawing her towards
him and kissing her; but there was a touch of sadness in his voice, as
in his look, to which she replied with a merry laugh, and said,--

"Say it out boldly, George, do; say frankly what a sin and a shame it
is, that such a dear good girl should have to strain her wits in this
hand-to-hand fight with Poverty, and not be embellishing some splendid
station with her charming talents, and such like."

"I was thinking something not very far from it," said he, smiling.

"Of course you were; but you never thought, perhaps, how soon ennui and
lassitude might have taken the place of all my present energy. I want to
please you now, George, since without me you would be desolate; but if
we were rich, you'd not depend on me, and I'd have been very dispirited
and very sad. There now, that's quite enough of sentimentalizing for
once. I 'm off to dress. Do you know," said she, as she mounted the
stairs, "I have serious thoughts of captivating Mr. Cutbill?"

"Oh, Julia, I entreat--" but she was gone ere he could finish, and her
merry laughter was heard till her door closed.

Poor girl, her light-heartedness died out as she felt herself alone, and
turning towards a little photograph of a man in a naval uniform, that
hung over the chimney, her eyes grew dim with tears as she gazed on it.

"Ay," said she, bitterly, "and this same humor it was that lost me the
truest heart that ever beat! What would I not give now to know that he
still remembered me--remembered me with kindness!"

She sat down, with her face buried in her hands, nor stirred till the
sound of voices beneath apprised her that their guest had arrived.

While she was yet standing before her glass, and trying to efface the
traces of sorrow on her features, George tapped softly at her door.
"May I come in?" crie