or of the house corresponded with the exterior, It did not,
for the room, though large, was very comfortable. The floor was covered
with a bright-colored home-made carpet. In one corner stood a bed, the
counterpane of which was as white as snow, and the curtains of the windows
were of the same hue. In another corner was a small bookcase, well filled
with books and on a stand near a window were several house plants.

He concluded that the books and the plants were the property of the young
lady, whom Mrs. Middleton introduced to him as her eldest daughter Julia.
She was an intelligent-looking girl, and Mr. Wilmot instantly felt
interested in her, but when he attempted to converse with her, she stole
quietly out of the room, leaving her mother to entertain the visitor.

At last supper was brought in by old Aunt Judy, who courtesied so low to
the "young marster," that she upset the coffee pot, the contents of which
fell upon a spaniel, which lay before the fire. The outcries of the dog
brought Miss Julia from the kitchen, and this time she was accompanied by
her younger sister, Fanny, who together with Julia and Aunt Judy, lamented
over the wounded animal.

"I didn't go to do it, sartin, Miss July," said Aunt Judy, "Lor' knows I
didn't."

"Who said you did, you black thing, you?" said Julia, who in her grief for
her favorite, and her anger at Aunt Judy, forgot the stranger, and her
bashfulness, too. "You were careless, I know you were," she continued, "or
you never could have tipped the coffee over in this manner."

"Never mind, sister," said Fanny, "never mind; of course, Aunt Judy didn't
mean to do it, for she likes Dido as well as we do."

"Lor' bless Miss Fanny's sweet face, that I do like Dido," said Aunt Judy.

"Yes, that you do," repeated Julia mockingly, "just as though you could
like anything."

Here Mrs. Middleton interposed and ordered Julia and Fanny to take their
seats at the table, while Judy cleared away all traces of the disaster.
Julia complied with an ill-grace, muttering something about "the hateful
negroes," while Fanny obeyed readily, and laughingly made some remark to
Mr. Wilmot about their making so much ado over a dog, "but," said she, "we
are silly girls, and of course do silly things. Probably we shall do
better when we get old like you--no, like mother, I mean."

Here she stopped, blushing deeply at having called Mr. Wilmot old, when in
fact she thought him quite young, and very handsome-