ries on that individual. At Paris she
had simply asked Julius, "What do _you_ think of Paris?" And the opinion
of Julius was then given to Seat-Sandal confidently as the only correct
estimate that the world was likely to get. At Venice, Rome, Naples, her
plan was identical; and any variation of detail simply referred to the
living at different places, and how Julius liked it, and how it had
agreed with him.

So when the Florence letter came, there was no particular enthusiasm
about it. The address assigned it to the squire, and he left it lying on
the table while he finished the broiled trout and coffee before him. But
it troubled Charlotte, and she waited anxiously for the unpleasant words
she felt sure were inside of it. Yet there was no change on the squire's
face, and no sign of annoyance, as he read it. "It is about the usual
thing, Alice. Julius likes Florence. It is called 'the beautiful.'
Julius thinks that it deserves the title. The wine in Rome did not suit
Julius, but he finds the Florence vintage much better. The climate is
very delightful, Julius is sure he will derive benefit from it; and so
on, and so on, and so on." Then there was a short pause, and a rapid
turn of the sheet to glance at the other side. "Oh, Julius met Harry
yesterday! He--Julius--does not think Harry is doing right. 'Harry
always was selfish and extravagant, and though he did affront us on our
wedding-day, Julius thought it proper to call upon him. He--I mean
Harry--was with a most beautiful young girl. Julius thinks father ought
to write to him, and tell him to go back to his duty.'"

These were the words, doubtful and suggestive, which made every heart in
Seat-Sandal thoroughly uncomfortable. And yet Charlotte stoutly said, "I
would not mind Sophia's insinuations, father and mother. She is angry at
Harry. Harry has as much right in Florence as Sophia has. He told us he
was going there. He has written to us frequently. Suppose he was with a
beautiful girl: is Julius the only young man entitled to such a
privilege? Sophia is happy in her own way, and we do not envy nor
interfere with her happiness; but why should we permit her to make us
unhappy? Throw the letter out of your memories, dear father and mother.
It is only a piece of ill-nature. Perhaps Julius had been cross with
her; and if Sophia has a grievance, she never rests until she passes it
on to some one."

Women still hold the divining-cup, and Charlotte was not far wrong in