covery that John Arthur could leave her nothing save his
blessing, had now been made, and Cora, who was already weary of her
gray-headed dupe, had been for a few days past less careful in her
dissembling.

For this reason John Arthur now sat with a moody brow, and watched her
smile upon her brother with a feeling of jealous wrath.

The bride had thrown off her badge of mourning, and was very glad to
bloom out once more in azure and white and rose--hues which her soul
loved.

Opposite sat Miss Arthur, her sallowness carefully enameled over, her
head adorned with an astonishing array of false braids and curls and
frizzes, jetty in hue to match her eyes, which, so Cora informed
Lucian in private, were "awfully beady."

The lady was perusing a paper, which she suddenly threw down, and said
languidly, while she stirred her chocolate carefully. "Should not this
be the day on which my new maid arrives?"

Miss Arthur, from perusing many novels of the Sir Walter Scott school,
had acquired a very stately manner of speech, and, so she flattered
herself, a very effective one.

"I don't know why Miss Arthur can want a maid; her toilets are always
perfection," remarked Mr. Davlin to the general assembly.

Whereupon, Miss Arthur blushed, giggled, and disclaimed; Mrs. Arthur
disappeared behind a newspaper; and Mr. Arthur emerged from the fog of
thought that had enveloped him, to say brusquely:

"Miss Arthur want a maid? what's all this? A French maid in a country
house--faugh!"

Miss Arthur gazed across at her brother, and said, loftily, and
somewhat unmeaningly:

"It is what I have chosen to do, John." Then to Mr. Davlin, sweetly:
"It is so hard to dispense with a maid when you have been accustomed
to one."

"I suppose so."

"And this one comes so well recommended, you know, by Mrs. Overman and
Mrs. Grosvenor. You have heard of these ladies in society, no doubt,
Mr. Davlin?"

"Oh, certainly," aloud, "not," aside.

"And the name of the maid?" pursued Lucian.

"Her name," referring to the letter, "Celine Leroque--French, I
presume."

"No doubt," dryly.

"Stop him, Miss Arthur," interrupted Cora, prettily; "he will
certainly ask if she is handsome, if you let him open his mouth
again."

Miss Arthur glanced at him suspiciously. "Not having seen her, I could
not inform him," she said, coldly.

"Don't believe my sister," said Davlin, quietly, as he passed his cup.
"Cora, a little more chocolate, please. Miss Arth