ura, as she went; 'it was no kindness in you to encourage
Charlotte to stay, Amy, when you know how often that inquisitive temper
has got her into scrapes.'

'I suppose so,' said Amy, regretfully; 'but I had not the heart to send
her away.'

'That is just what Philip says, that you only want bones and sinews in
your character to--'

'Come, Laura,' interrupted Charles, 'I won't hear Philip's criticisms
of my sister, I had rather she had no bones at all, than that they stuck
out and ran into me. There are plenty of angles already in the world,
without sharpening hers.'

He possessed himself of Amy's round, plump, childish hand, and spread
out over it his still whiter, and very bony fingers, pinching her 'soft
pinky cushions,' as he called them, 'not meant for studying anatomy
upon.'

'Ah! you two spoil each other sadly,' said Laura, smiling, as she left
the room.

'And what do Philip and Laura do to each other?' said Charles.

'Improve each other, I suppose,' said Amabel, in a shy, simple tone, at
which Charles laughed heartily.

'I wish I was as sensible as Laura!' said she, presently, with a sigh.

'Never was a more absurd wish,' said Charles, tormenting her hand still
more, and pulling her curls; 'unwish it forthwith. Where should I be
without silly little Amy? If every one weighed my wit before laughing, I
should not often be in disgrace for my high spirits, as they call them.'

'I am so little younger than Laura,' said Amy, still sadly, though
smiling.

'Folly,' said Charles; 'you are quite wise enough for your age, while
Laura is so prematurely wise, that I am in constant dread that nature
will take her revenge by causing her to do something strikingly
foolish!'

'Nonsense!' cried Amy, indignantly. 'Laura do anything foolish!'

'What I should enjoy,' proceeded Charles, 'would be to see her over head
and ears in love with this hero, and Philip properly jealous.'

'How can you say such things, Charlie?'

'Why? was there ever a beauty who did not fall in love with her father's
ward?'

'No; but she ought to live alone with her very old father and horribly
grim maiden aunt.'

'Very well, Amy, you shall be the maiden, aunt.' And as Laura returned
at that moment, he announced to her that they had been agreeing that no
hero ever failed to fall in love with his guardian's beautiful daughter.

'If his guardian had a beautiful daughter,' said Laura, resolved not to
be disconcerted.

'Did you ever hear