from my self-satisfied position, by some married friend saying, in a half vexed, impatient tone--"Ah, yes, this is all very fine in theory--no doubt you would be successful--we all know the homely adage--'old bachelors' wives and old maids' children,' &c." Effie was not what is called a belle in society. She was too cold and spiritual. Her beauty was too delicate to make an impression in the gay ball-room; and she cared little for what both men and women in the world pine after--popularity. She danced and talked only with those who pleased her, and sometimes not at all if it did not suit her fancy. There was a great contrast between her mother and herself. Mrs. Morris, though "forty rising," was still a fine-looking, _distingue_ woman; and on her re-entrance into society with her daughter, she produced a greater impression than did Effie. She had a merry, joyous disposition, and without possessing half the mental superiority her daughter was gifted with, she had a light, easy conversational ability, playful repartee, an elegant style and manner, and a sufficient knowledge of accomplishments to produce an effect in the gay world, and make her the centre of attraction of every circle she entered; and the world wondered so brilliant a mother should have so indifferent a daughter. She doted on Effie; and, I am sure, loved her all the more for her calm, quiet way. She often said to me, "Effie is very superior to the women one meets with--she has a pure, elevated spirit. So delicate a nature as hers is not properly appreciated in this world."