f and mutton will soon make a
difference. It was all very well to look pale, sitting for the
portrait of Aquinas, you know--we got your letter just in time. But
Aquinas, now--he was a little too subtle, wasn't he? Does anybody read
Aquinas?"

"He is not indeed an author adapted to superficial minds," said Mr.
Casaubon, meeting these timely questions with dignified patience.

"You would like coffee in your own room, uncle?" said Dorothea, coming
to the rescue.

"Yes; and you must go to Celia: she has great news to tell you, you
know. I leave it all to her."

The blue-green boudoir looked much more cheerful when Celia was seated
there in a pelisse exactly like her sister's, surveying the cameos with
a placid satisfaction, while the conversation passed on to other topics.

"Do you think it nice to go to Rome on a wedding journey?" said Celia,
with her ready delicate blush which Dorothea was used to on the
smallest occasions.

"It would not suit all--not you, dear, for example," said Dorothea,
quietly. No one would ever know what she thought of a wedding journey
to Rome.

"Mrs. Cadwallader says it is nonsense, people going a long journey when
they are married. She says they get tired to death of each other, and
can't quarrel comfortably, as they would at home. And Lady Chettam
says she went to Bath." Celia's color changed again and again--seemed

"To come and go with tidings from the heart,
As it a running messenger had been."

It must mean more than Celia's blushing usually did.

"Celia! has something happened?" said Dorothea, in a tone full of
sisterly feeling. "Have you really any great news to tell me?"

"It was because you went away, Dodo. Then there was nobody but me for
Sir James to talk to," said Celia, with a certain roguishness in her
eyes.

"I understand. It is as I used to hope and believe," said Dorothea,
taking her sister's face between her hands, and looking at her half
anxiously. Celia's marriage seemed more serious than it used to do.

"It was only three days ago," said Celia. "And Lady Chettam is very
kind."

"And you are very happy?"

"Yes. We are not going to be married yet. Because every thing is to
be got ready. And I don't want to be married so very soon, because I
think it is nice to be engaged. And we shall be married all our lives
after."

"I do believe you could not marry better, Kitty. Sir James is a good,
honorable man," said Dorothea, warmly.