The Harpers left early, thus affording great opportunity for their characters being discussed afterwards. Every lady in the room had long since declared herself “in love” with the elder brother; the fact was now repeated for the thousandth time, together with one or two remarks about the younger Harper, who they agreed was rather nice-looking, but so eccentric! Miss Bowen scarcely thought about Nathanael at all; except that, after she was in bed, a comical recollection floated through other more serious ones, and she laughed outright at the notion of being considered like a Pawnee Indian! CHAPTER II. Of all the misfortunes incidental to youth (falling in love included), there are few greater than that of having nothing to do. From this trial, Agatha Bowen, being unhappily a young lady of independent property, suffered martyrdom every day. She had no natural ties, duties, or interests, and was not sufficiently selfish to create the like in and about her own personality. She did not think herself handsome enough to be vain, so had not that sweet refuge of feminine idleness--dress. Nor, it must be dolefully confessed, was she of so loving a nature as to love anybody or everybody, as some women can. Kind to all, and liking many, she was apparently one of those characters who only really _love_ two or three people in the whole course of their existence. To such, life is a serious, perilous, and often terrible journey. “Well, Tittens, I don't know, really, what we are to do with ourselves this morning,” said Agatha, talking aloud to her Familiar, the black kitten, who shared the solitude of her little drawing-room. “You'd like to go and play downstairs, I dare say? It's all very nice for you to be running after Mrs. Ianson's wools, but I can't see anything amusing in fancy-work. And as for dawdling round this square and Russell Square with Jane Ianson and Fido--pah! I'd quite as soon be changed into a lapdog, and led along by a string. How stupid London is! Oh, Tittens, to think that you and I have never lived in the country since we were born. Wouldn't you like to go? Only, then we should never see anybody----” The foolish girl paused, and laughed, as if she did not like to soliloquise too confidentially, even to a kitten. “Which of them did you like the best last night, Tittens? One was not over civil to you; but Nathanael--yes, certainly you and that juvenile are great friends, considering you have met but four evenings. All in one week, too. Our house is getting quite gay, Miss Tittens; only it is so much the duller in the mornings. Heigho! “Life's a weary, weary, weary, Life's a weary coble o' care.” “What's the other verse? And she began humming: “Man's a steerer, steerer, steerer, Man's a steerer--life is a pool.” “I wonder, Tittens, how you and I shall steer through it? and whether the pool will be muddy or clear?”