sister-in-law’s strange death, her brother’s long misery, and now the consolation which he had found, and which all his friends disapproved of, and she herself had come here to put a stop to. What were all these things in comparison with Cara happy, Cara blessed in that best and sweetest lot which had never come to herself? What matter, if it came to her dearest child? She had plenty of time to indulge these thoughts, for her dearest child was a long time coming, and but for her delightful dreams Miss Cherry might have felt somewhat dull and deserted in the still house. If she could but look through the partition and see into the drawing-room next door!--just a peep, to see her Cara with that charming young man beside her, bending over her. They were like a pair in a novel, Miss Cherry felt, or in a poem, which was better still--she, with those great blue eyes, which were Cara’s chief feature; he, dark and splendid, with a glow of manly colour. How nice that he should be so handsome! For indeed sometimes, girls are quite pleased and happy with those who are not handsome, so that this was something _pardessus le marché_, an exceptional advantage. Someone began to play the piano after a while, and the sound came through the wall. Was it perhaps _he_? Cara could not play so well as that. If it was he, then he must be accomplished too, as well as handsome. What a happy, happy girl! Though Miss Cherry was a little tired of waiting before Cara came in, she had not at all flagged in her enthusiasm, and when the girl flew to her, all flushed and excited with pleasure at the sight of her, it was all she could do to restrain her congratulations and blessings. ‘For I must not say a word till she gives me her confidence,’ she said to herself. ‘Nurse told me as she let me in that you were here. Oh, Aunt Cherry, how glad I am! When did you come? Why did you not send for me? Here I have been waiting nearly an hour at Mrs. Meredith’s, and you here!’ ‘My darling, you were happier there----’ ‘Happier than with you? I was happier than when I am alone; but if I had known you were here! And, oh! Aunt Cherry, there is only time to get ready for dinner! We can’t talk just now; how provoking it is! Tell me about Aunt Charity and home; but we must not keep dinner waiting.’ ‘No, dear. How pleased I am,’ said Miss Cherry, kissing her child with tender fondness, ‘to see you so considerate and careful of your papa’s comfort?’ ‘Yes,’ said Cara, doubtfully. ‘Papa, of course--but it is more for cook and John; they don’t like to have dinner kept waiting. Papa is often a little late himself, but of course no one could say anything to him.’