It was very quiet at the Columbian, and the few gentlemen seated upon the piazza seemed to be of a different stamp from those at the more fashionable houses, as there were none of them smoking, nor did they stare impertinently at the gayly dressed lady coming up the steps, and inquiring of the clerk if Miss Alice Johnson were there. “Yes, she was, and her room was No. ——. Should he send up the lady’s card? Miss Johnson had mostly kept to her room.” ’Lina had brought no card, but she gave her name and passed on into the parlor, which afforded a striking contrast to the beehive down town. In a corner two or three were sitting; another group occupied a window while at the piano were two more, an old and a young lady; the latter of whom was seated upon the stool, and with her foot upon the soft pedal, was alternately striking a few sweet musical chords, and talking to her companion, who seemed to be a servant. Taking her seat near these last, ’Lina watched them curiously; a thought once crossing her mind that this might be _Alice Johnson_. But no; Alice, of course, would be habited in deepest black, while the dress this lady wore was a simple, pure white, unrelieved by any color save the jet bracelets upon the snowy arms and the jet pin at the throat. This was not Alice sure, and she felt glad to know it, for she would rather that Alice Johnson should be a shade less lovely than the young girl before her. How dazzling she was in her radiant beauty, with all that wealth of chestnut hair shading her fair brow and falling almost to her waist; but the soft, dreamy eyes of blue, with their long silken lashes, were to ’Lina the chief attraction. None could withstand those eyes, now cast down upon the keys as if heavy with unshed tears, and now upraised to the woman beside her who appeared to regard her with a species of adoration, occasionally laying her hand caressingly upon the sunny hair, and letting it slide down until it rested upon the shoulder. As the minutes went by ’Lina grew very impatient at Alice’s long delay. “I mean to ring,” she said, just as the servant to whom she had delivered her message appeared. Very haughtily ’Lina asked if he had found Miss Johnson. “If she’s not in, we don’t care to stay here all night,” she said, angrily, whereupon she became conscious that the blue eyes of the lady were fixed inquiringly upon her, as if wondering how a well bred person could betray so much ill nature. “Miss Johnson? I beg pardon, I supposed you knew her and had found her, as she was in here. This is Miss Johnson,” and the waiter bowed toward the musician, who, quick as thought seized upon the truth, and springing to Mrs. Worthington’s side, exclaimed,