“Indeed I perfectly agree with you, my dearest Henry, and I now see that you were quite right in acting as you did, for I am quite sure that Cousin Clara enjoys herself with us. As for me, her company is such an acquisition that I shall scarcely leave the house this winter, but shall reserve all my dissipation for the time when I shall be compelled to lose her, and seek for amusement abroad. Clara, my dear, whenever you wish to retire Mildred will give you a candle; I am going now to sit in my own room, you know the dear children will never go to sleep without mamma;” and so saying, she retired to her own room, accompanied by her husband, after which Clara went to her apartment, which was rendered chilly, by the small fire having nearly gone out; as it had been hastily kindled by a careless servant. “After all,” soliloquized Clara, throwing herself on a chair in her cheerless apartment, “after all, it is not so very delightful in the city as I anticipated. Dear Cousin Florence is very kind and affectionate, and yet it seems to me, that she is a little thoughtless, and although I would not mention it to any one, yet I think she considers my comfort and amusement very little, and is so domestic herself, that she thinks I ought to be so too, never considering for a moment that she has a husband and children to interest and occupy her mind, while I am left to my own resources. Dull as my cousin seems to consider my own home, I am beginning to wish I had never left it; there every one studied my tastes, and sought to promote my happiness; here I am completely thrown into the shade. But one thing I have learned, and that is, that whoever has a happy home should never sigh for the gayeties of a city life, for they may feel assured, that they will enjoy more true happiness at their own home, in partaking of the pleasures which it affords, and performing the duties which it enjoins.” As our heroine pronounced these words her eyes fell on an open drawer, where, crushed and faded, were carelessly thrown the bouquet of orange flowers which Edward had given her, and while her now fast falling tears dropped over the neglected token, how bitterly did she chide herself for the light value which she had attached to her last precious interview with _him_ to whom, however she might strive to conceal them even from herself, she now felt that she must ever cherish sentiments of the sincerest affection. CHAPTER IV. In early youth when Hope is new, The heart expands with love and joy, Each prospect wears a brighter hue, And pleasure seems without alloy. E. M. B. “My dear Florence,” said Mr. Cleveland, as he entered the room, some days after the circumstances related in the preceding chapter; “Mr. Preston is in the parlor, and if you and Cousin Clara wish to see him I will take you out.”