antly starting up when she saw her brother, she ran towards him
with the most cordial cheerfulness.

"Welcome, welcome, my dear John; this is very kind of you to come to
visit your recluse sister. I have been trying to nail my eyes and my
understanding to a stupid book here, because they say too much thought
is not quite good for me. But, either the man's dulness, or my want of
the power of attending, makes my eyes pass over the page, just as one
seems to read in a dream, without being able to comprehend one word of
the matter. You shall talk to me, and that will do better. What can I
give you to show that you are welcome? I am afraid tea is all I have to
offer, and that you set too little store by."

"I shall be glad of a cup at present," said Mowbray, "for I wish to
speak with you."

"Then Jessy shall make it ready instantly," said Miss Mowbray, ringing,
and giving orders to her waiting-maid--"but you must not be ungrateful,
John, and plague me with any of the ceremonial for your
fete--'sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.' I will attend, and
play my part as prettily as you can desire; but to think of it
beforehand, would make both my head and my heart ache; and so I beg you
will spare me on the subject."

"Why, you wild kitten," said Mowbray, "you turn every day more shy of
human communication--we shall have you take the woods one day, and
become as savage as the Princess Caraboo. But I will plague you about
nothing if I can help it. If matters go not smooth on the great day,
they must e'en blame the dull thick head that had no fair lady to help
him in his need. But, Clara, I had something more material to say to
you--something indeed of the last importance."

"What is it?" said Clara, in a tone of voice approaching to a
scream--"in the name of God, what is it? You know not how you terrify
me!"

"Nay, you start at a shadow, Clara," answered her brother. "It is no
such uncommon matter neither--good faith, it is the most common distress
in the world, so far as I know the world--I am sorely pinched for
money."

"Is that all?" replied Clara, in a tone which seemed to her brother as
much to underrate the difficulty, when it was explained, as her fears
had exaggerated it before she heard its nature.

"Is that all? Indeed it is all, and comprehends a great deal of
vexation. I shall be hard run unless I can get a certain sum of
money--and I must e'en ask you if you can help me?"

"Help you?" replied Clara;