“Do?” responded the heartless and unprincipled Elizabeth, “why, let me think. He does somehow seem to be a prize worth capturing, he is so stately and handsome. I am not sure, Lottie, but I shall come into the ranks to contend for him myself, ha! ha! ha! At least you could afford me the pleasure of a flirtation, just while I stay! I would not snap my finger, however, for a little obscure country parson for a _husband_! Well, I guess you must manage to get some story into currency, that will give her an impulse back to her patterns and fashion-plates, and make him a chance to forget such a very meek and meaching face, and sanctimonious demeanor; but mind you, don’t mention your _authority_. I shall be terribly angry if you do, for these sewing-girls get possession of a great many things they might circulate to one’s disadvantage you know—and they are so touchy and jealous, they are really a very mischievous class of persons. But let me tell you a fact. I lost a splendid bracelet that cost me forty dollars at one dress-maker’s! I will not mention her name, but you can make _your own inferences_!” And Elizabeth Tyler and Charlotte Varley maliciously giggled. “I may draw _mine_ too, may I not?” said Emilie Jones, as she sprang to her feet, with dashing eyes and indignation burning in every feature. Thrusting aside the drapery, she presented herself on the piazza, with an air as imperial as a second Zenobia defending the honor of her Palmyra. But the offending parties had hastily retreated, and mingled with the other guests who were returning from a stroll in the beautiful garden, which was gayly enough illuminated to be the trysting-place of Houries. “Be calm, Jessie—Miss Lincoln,” said Mr. Style, as he drew her unresisting arm within his own. “Such malice always works ruin to those who cherish it.” Jessie’s wounded heart fluttered strangely. The cruel and unprovoked injustice she suffered, awoke her pride, and made her stronger in body and spirit, while the mingling of the champion and the lover in Mr. Style’s tone and manner reassured her, and restored her self-possession. He placed her by the side of Mrs. Tower, who was chatting agreeably, wholly ignorant that any thing had occurred to disturb or distress Jessie, then attached himself to one and another circle, as he saw their entertainment flagging, and at length he found himself by the side of Miss Charlotte and her friend. “Really, Mr. Style,” said Charlotte, as she laid her small, fair hand on his arm, and looked up languidly in his face; “you have been so choice of yourself or so democratic to-night, I have hardly seen you at all. Now it is your duty as a knight-errant, to make yourself agreeable to my dearest friend, Miss Tyler.”