higher order of
being from themselves--a sort of delicate porcelain, while they are only
common crockery for kitchen service. All perfectly proper, you know!"

The last speaker was a languid blonde, with a profusion of airy ringlets
fluttering around her thin face, which, judging by appearances, must
have been fanned by the zephyrs of innumerable May-days, equally as
bright and beautiful as the one that on the present occasion had aroused
her to the unwonted exertion of dressing and appearing in the parlor of
her dearest friend, to display a new, tasteful spring suit, of a
delicate blue, suitable to the complexion of the lady it adorned.

A self-complacent smile curled her thin lips, as she quietly noted the
effects of her somewhat lengthy speech. Like all efforts of an
unexpected and startling nature it produced a decided sensation. The
little lady in brocade and diamonds glared at her like a fury--her
stately hostess bridled, tossed her head, and gave one or two short,
sharp, hysterical giggles.

"Why, Cynthia," she exclaimed, "you are in charming spirits! Mr.
Underwitte must have proposed at last."

Miss Cynthia playfully held up her parasol to conceal her blushes.

"As if I were going to tell if he did! Now, really, Mrs. Brown, what
would you say to having me for a neighbor at some not distant day in the
place of those insufferable Graystones? Do you think I could do the
honors of the mansion gracefully, or should I suffer from the comparison
with the fair descendant of the Leveridges? By the way, do you think she
will continue to pride herself upon her lofty descent in the future, as
she has done in the past? She must have enough of the subject by this
time, I think! he! he! he!"

There was a shrill chorus of laughter, which a deep, tragic voice
interrupted with the question--

"What are you all so merry about?" and a figure, in bombazine and rusty
crape, stood before them, which was hailed successively by three voices,
a cracked soprano, Mrs. Crane--a high-keyed treble, Miss Cynthia, and a
little gasp or gurgle from Mrs. Brown, the lady in brocade, as, "Mrs.
Linden!" "My dear creature!" and "That angel Alicia!" and any amount of
kissing and shaking of hands, then a general resuming of seats, and the
question again asked, "What were you all so merry about, that you did
not hear me ring?"

"One of Cynthia's witty speeches," replied the lady of the house, and
after they had had another laugh, and Miss Cynthi