Miss Grace Windlespin was a sentimentalist, while her sister Catharine affected vivacity and brilliancy. The elder was all poetry—the younger all fun and frolic. Grace spoke in a gentle voice, and raised her blue eyes sweetly and languidly to the face of those whom she addressed; while Kate (for so, in imitation of Shakspeare’s heroine, she affected to be styled) turned the full light of her bold laughing glances on every one worth looking at. The one delighted in the soft pleasures of sensibility—the other in the ready repartee and saucy jest. In short, the sisters were alike in nothing except their excessive affectation. Neither of them exhibited her natural character; all was assumed for effect, and each had studied the part best suited to her style of beauty. The slightly-bending figure, pale complexion and long chestnut ringlets of Grace were admirably suited to her very _poetic_ manner; while the blonde hair, rosy cheeks and somewhat dumpy person of her merry sister were equally well suited to the devil-may-care character which she chose to assume. Their father was one of those kind of persons who are constantly engaged in visionary schemes of wealth. Nobody better understood how to puff up a bubble—nobody was better skilled in “mapping out” landed estates—nobody possessed in such perfection the gift of “_fortune-telling_” as the Hon. Mr. Windlespin. Originally a country shop-keeper in Jersey, his first start in life had been rather an odd one. Taking advantage of the mania for “real estate speculations,” which pervaded the whole country, he, in company with several others, projected a new city, to be located upon their extensive and somewhat barren farms. Accordingly a large hotel was built, a meeting-house erected, a school-house raised, and some half dozen dwelling-houses were ranged along what was meant to be the main street. In an incredibly short time all was completed, and every thing was ready except the people who were required to occupy the infant city. These were still to be found, and the company began to discover that it would be exceedingly inconvenient to pay “_interest monies_” without some assistance. At this juncture the genius of Mr. Windlespin devised an expedient for bringing their new settlement into notice. He advertised in all the papers that a purse of fifty dollars would be “_danced for_” by twelve _Communipaw negroes_—the dancers to be selected from as many as chose to try their skill previous to the grand effort. The scene of these new _Athletæ_ was to be the extensive plain which fronted the hotel at “_Scipio-Africanus_”—for such was the sounding title which Mr. Windlespin, after a careful search into an old copy of Lemprière’s dictionary, had chosen for the incipient city. The idle, the dissolute, and the shiftless—the people who are most easily led to change their habitations, like wandering Arabs, are the very men who were most likely to be attracted by such a queer and novel amusement. Accordingly Mr.