Somers coughed behind his hand. "To-morrow will do, Desmond."

"To-day will do."

"Desmond," said Ben in a low voice, "you do not see Mr. Morgeson and
Miss Morgeson. My brother, Cassandra."

"Beg pardon, good-morning"; and he pulled off his hat with an air of
grace which became him, though it was very indifferent. Mrs. Somers in
a soft voice said: "Ring, Des, dear, will you?" He warned her with
a satirical smile, and gave such a pull at the bell-rope that it came
down. Her florid face flushed a deeper red, but he had gone. Father
looked at his watch, and got up with alacrity.

"You are to dine with us, at least, Mr. Morgeson."

"I must return to Boston on account of my daughter, who is there
alone."

"Have you been remiss, Ben," said his father affectionately, "in not
bringing her also?"

"She would not come, of course, father."

A tall, black-haired girl of twenty-five rushed in.

"Why, Ben," she said, "you were not expected. And this is Miss
Morgeson," shaking hands with me. "You will spend a month, won't
you?" She put her chin in her hand, and scanned me with a cool
deliberateness. "Pa, do you think she is like Caroline Bingham?"

"Yes, so she is; but fairer. She is a great belle," nodding to me.

"Do you _really_ think she looks like her, Somers?" said Mrs. Somers,
in a tone of denial.

"Certainly, but handsomer," Adelaide replied for him, without looking
at her mother.

"Would you like to go to your room?" she asked. "What a pretty dress
this is!" taking hold of the sleeve, her chin in her hand still. "We
will have some walks; Belem is nice for walking. Pa, how do you feel
now?"

She allowed me to go downstairs with father, without following, and
sent Murphy in with wine and biscuit. I put my arms round his neck and
kissed him, for I had a lonesome feeling, which I could not define at
the last moment.

"You will not stay long," he said; "there is something oppressive in
this atmosphere."

"Something artificial, is it? It must be the blood of the Bellevue
Pickersgills that thickens the air."

"Now," said Ben, with father's hat in his hand, "the time is up."

Adelaide was at the door to take courteous leave of him, and Mrs.
Somers bowed from the top of the stairs, revealing a pair of large
ankles, whose base rested in a pair of shabby, pudgy slippers.
Adelaide then took me to my room, telling me not to change my dress,
but to come down soon, for dinner was ready. Hearing a bell, I hurried
dow