was a cipher in the house. The young men who visited there never thought the boy's friendship or favor any thing important, worth the trouble of drawing him from his retirement, and so he was left alone to observe and reflect, and this with all diligence he continued to do.

Louise Raymond was a cousin of the Ishams. They always called her cousin, but the relationship was in reality more distant. She was of the same age as Ada, one-and-twenty, but in person and spirit she was four or five years younger.

As she was poor, and had no particular claim on her relations, Louise taught music in a school through the week, and on Saturdays usually went to visit at her uncle's house. They were unceremonious visits - made sometimes in the nursery, or in the garden with the children, who loved her, or reading in the library, or chatting with her uncle or aunt, or Everett, wherever they might be, but rarely sitting up in state in the drawing-room.

They all liked her, she had such freshness of enjoyment in every thing that was agreeable, was so unassuming, unpretentious, which characteristics, to assuming and pretentious people, have an especial charm. Even Lucretia and Ada liked Louise, and never found her in the way, because her self-respect served her like an instinct, and taught her to keep out of it. She was not a politic but a wise woman, and I fancy she went to her uncle's house to visit on these Saturdays with something of the feeling with which an intelligent body goes to a menagerie and pays the keeper for his exhibition, and gets what good he can from the show, confident of his safety in the tacit understanding that the owner of the caravan shall keep his wild animals safe locked within their cages.

Louise had an uncommon musical talent, and without much culture or critical exactness had attained to a very certain position of her own as a teacher, which she held securely. She loved music, though she made no pretensions as professor; but she could sing ballads to perfection. Sometimes, but rarely, she had been persuaded to appear at some of her cousins' gay parties, and on such occasions she had sung to please the company; but never those songs which haunt the ear of Everett when he brings the guitar from the drawing-room to the library, and his younger sisters make with him the little audience. She would as soon think of sitting down in the market-place to tell the sacred secrets of her heart, the loves and griefs, to whatever idler strolling by should chance to pause and gape at her, as sing those songs she loves to an indiscriminate throng. For this sweet gift of hers she has been sought sometimes outside the circle of relationship. A guest of the Ishams' might surely find admittance anywhere. Once or twice she has been persuaded, to her own subsequent regret, to accept these invitations, but vulgar people know so ill how to manage such things that they have disgusted her; and so when she goes into society at all, it is among unostentatious people, who do not distinguish between her and her gifts.

Louise has a lover, to whom she is nearly betrothed. It is this fact probably that has tended somewhat to unequalize her temperament, and induce the more than ordinary thoughtfulness and anxiety with which

she has of late contemplated the future. If she were not an orphan, and under the necessity of doing something for her own maintenance, she would not now be thinking of the offer of the wealthy widower, an offer which she has contrived to avert and delay whenever she has felt it immediately impending. She does not investigate the reason of this shrinking from him, while at the same time that she hinders herself from so doing, she looks upon him as the unfolder of her future destiny. She dare not. They have congratulated her on her prospect at the mansion, not Everett, but his sisters, and her aunt and uncle Isham. Strange as it may seem, slight as is the value attached to his judgment by the rest of the family, if Everett would but join with them in these gratulations, she would feel a lighter heart and greater confidence about it; and because she knew that he would not speak in the same strain with them, she had sought and succeeded in avoidance of his comments on the subject. The reason of this he did not discover, but he felt the fact, and it imposed silence upon him for a time; but after he had learned that his sisters' engagements were fixed facts, and had perplexed himself with endeavoring to discern the facts, and had silently passed a really true but most severe judgment on their proceedings, he began to suspect himself of indulging a belief in a power he did not actually possess, a discernment of things quite beyond his ken, and he turned hopefully for relief of his perplexity to Louise, bethought him of the state of her affairs; remembering, that according to report, she also was betrothed, and that she appeared to be in no such disturbed, excited state of being as his sisters, he waited impatiently till she should come up to spend another Saturday at the house, determined that she should help him to the opinion and feeling which he ought to have in regard to the developing family affairs.

When Louise came, it happened that his sisters had gone out for the day, and there was no one in the house to receive her but himself, nor even he; for though he saw her as she came up the street, and heard her as she entered the gate and pulled the door-bell, though he knew there was no one there but servants to welcome her, he kept his place. The only thing for which he cared to see her just now was to question her on this point, that had absorbed his contemplations during the past week; and now that the time had come when he might question, in the certainty of frank replies, he was loth to go and use the opportunity. It was not a pleasant thought to him that he might hear from a woman's lips or read in a woman's eyes a confirmation of the truths he guessed at, or suspected; for as yet, wanting as he was in confidence in the imaginings of his heart, he had not arrived at the entire and beautiful truth that would free him from all fear.

Nevertheless, in the course of the half-hour succeeding her arrival, he went out from his room and entered the library, and rested his course on the event. If Louise should come into the library that afternoon, he would question her as he had designed. She came.

Very little really idle talk ever passed between them when they were together, there was a directness in their mode of speech that spoke well for their sincerity and earnestness. When Louise came into the room, he arose and approached her, taking from the reading-table a

bouquet of flowers he had gathered in anticipation of her arrival; and his admiration shone from his eyes as he looked at her, she received the gift with so much grace.

Louise,' he said presently, throwing himself into a chair opposite that which she had taken, 'Louise, I can understand some things better when you have expressed your opinion about them. What do you think of these marriages we are going to have in the house?'

Louise was taken aback by the suddenness and strangeness of the question, and she was slow to answer - not that she was without the requisite confidence in Everett to express with freedom her opinion on whatever subject he proposed, but because she felt what she did at length express. I do not think it right to discuss the subject, cousin ; it is none of our business.'

'We won't quarrel about that; but do you think Lucretia and Ada well matched, either of them, Louise?'

They have not asked my opinion. It makes no difference what I think. I'm not a fit judge, in the first place, nor a competent one.' "You say so. I don't agree with you. I would like to have an honest woman's opinion. You will not speak; then I will. Now note if I make a mistake in any of my conclusions.'

'Do not, Everett,' said Louise hastily, as if in alarm. I don't like this sort of thing; it looks like treachery.'

Treachery why, no; I don't think so. I have had no confidence reposed in me. I only speak of what has been announced to all the world. All the world will judge of it, or has a right to do so; for the thing speaks for itself. What I want to do is just to look at the facts, and forget my own position in regard to them; and I want you to help me. Call the girls by any other names than Lucretia and Ada, if that is what you don't like about it. Just think of a handsome and proud woman who has no occasion to be married, except for the sake of her heart, to get it back again if she happens to lose it, just in the way that all folks who find their lives must first lose them, according to the Scriptures. Think of her contracting a relation for life which don't call one of the noblest affections into operation! This lady has lived on flattery so long, and this man flatters her so egregiously and so acceptably, the just conclusion seems to be that it's about as substantial food as she can endure; but that's not so. Look at her, and you'll see it is not. Why should she marry an obsequious politician? If his temporizing, not that any good may come either, but his own aggrandizement, has made him notorious among the virtuous few, and famous among the unvirtuous many, and he carries this same spirit into the drawing-room, and talks in the same spirit, though in another vein, to a lady, is this sufficient to win a lady's heart? She has some natural high-mindedness, but do n't believe it's that light, hid under a bushel, that he appreciates. He is a showy man of great pretensions, but I assure you nothing more.'

'I think your judgment is severe,' said Louise quickly, after a pause that followed his words. When she spoke, it seemed as if she were recovering from some deep abstraction, as if while her ear had taken in his words, and she had pondered them in surprise, as he sharply defined,

skillfully, in a few lines, the characters of Lucretia and La Marque, she had been thinking of her own possibly impending betrothal.

'Wherein?' asked Everett quietly, averting his eyes from Louise, as if fearful of reading a secret he would not have her betray.

'We cannot expect to know what is passing in the hearts of others,' and Louise looked at Everett as if she were questioning whether or not he had this power.

'There is no reason why we should not know, when we have lived for years in view of such things. We ought to be competent to understand the tokens and questionings when we see them.'

'But we cannot judge for each other what will satisfy each other. Lucretia sees a different man in La Marque from what you see.'

I know it, because she chooses to do so; but you do n't accuse a woman like her of such stupidity as inability to see him for what he is, would argue. You will see, if you will wait, to what a towering height her pride will grow when the years come on that will give people occasion for pitying her, if she would only let them. . . But it won't be so with Ada.' The voice of the speaker seemed to indicate that he felt a certain relief in turning his thoughts to this younger of the sisters, yet it was with a deepening sadness of tone that he continued: She has a great flow of spirits, you know, and so has Alexander. Perhaps you think they're well matched on that account. That's your mistake. She would have

Ada is refined and elegant with all her worldliness. been in any condition. He is a handsome fellow, but vulgar and comWhat do you say to this? I think it wretched.'

mon.

'The sketching?' asked Louise.

'No, the fact.'

'Your colors are too deep; put on too thickly.'

Do you think so? The living heart is blood-red.'

Then Louise, to be rid of the subject, would have laughed off his seriousness.

'It would be a city of maiden ladies, Everett, if you were allowed full sway.'

But his earnestness deepened.

No, there should be such a dispensation of marriages as never was heard of before; but people shouldn't be united helter-skelter, as they are now. The heart should have something to do with the matter. You, Louise, are an honest girl; would you marry a man for the sake of being married?'

Louise hesitated, even for a moment seemed capable of receiving this from Everett as a home-thrust, and of growing indignant over it; but she was wiser, nobler than to do this. Before she answered, she had formed a momentous and an unchangeable resolution. Looking steadily upon him, she answered: No, Everett, I would not.'

The boy rose quickly from his chair when she replied; his cheek flushed, his movements betrayed his agitation; some intimation he seemed to have received of the greatness and weight of that moment, that reply.

'I was sure of it,' he said, with a not quite firm command of his voice; as sure as I am of myself. When you hear that I have a

wife, Louise, you may be sure that my heart knew what it was about when it asked her companionship and sympathy and aid. Do you think yet that I have judged harshly?'

No matter what I think, Everett. I credit your sincerity, and that's enough. Probably when I reflect upon it, your words won't seem so strange.'

'Precisely what I expected you to say. I ventured to hint some of my thoughts to Ada; it was a sad failure, that experiment. She only called me a foolish boy; but she was displeased, and she hasn't forgiven me for it yet. She will; but it makes me sad to think of that. It will be a long time yet, and we shall all be so much changed before it happens. I should not expect Lucretia to forgive me if I said such things to her; they'd grow on her memory. She is imperious enough to be the wife of a man like Julius Cæsar; if she could be tempered by a spirit as strong as her own, that was living to a higher purpose, she would be a regal woman. But she's only a dreadfully proud one.'

'I don't understand how you've contrived to make so cool a study of your friends,' said Louise, troubled and astonished, and expressing her feeling well in look and voice.

They held me off at such a distance, that when I took an observation, I could but behold,' he said.

'You 're not the happier for it, Everett. Upon my word, I'd rather see less of the man and more of the boy in you. You are too young to be troubling yourself with such thoughts. You are too grave, not nearly so happy as you might be - as I am- and I'm five years older than you.'

'May-be not. I never thought of that.' Here Everett paused, and for a moment seemed lost in reflection; then he said quickly, looking up with sincere confidence, and fixing his eyes on his five years' senior: The more prepared for happiness, perhaps, you will allow, if it ever comes to me in a larger and better form than it does now, as I suppose it will. More happiness and more vexation. I shall know how to avoid toads and vampires....Ọ Louise! the earth is covered with creeping things!'

Painfully earnest the conversation had become. Louise broke away from it at this point with a gay tone, indulging him, however, so far as to keep to the subject, since it seemed so much to interest him; but the lugubrious aspect it had assumed was enlivened by the playful and coaxing voice saying:

Everett, just tell me now what sort of a paragon you are thinking of for your own wife. You seem to have come to some certain opinions on the subject.'

The boy entered into her spirit, caught her tone, and replied quickly : 'My wife, Louise; you shall have a full-length portrait. She shall be a strong, happy, holy girl; her eyes shall be to me at least the 6 sweetest eyes were ever seen,' as Camöens' lady's were. She shall have beautiful hair, dark or light; she shall be tall or short, plump or thin, as it suits her, but she must have a forehead and a mouth that can be trusted. Her head may fall short of universal knowledge, but her heart shall be warm and true, a temperate zone. I shall love her