The young couple took up their residence with the family at "The Corner," the Francises having by this time moved to a house of their own. With all these changes, little by little, the discipline relaxed, the doors opened wider. The bridal pair, _fêted_ everywhere, must, in their turn, entertain their friends; and in these entertainments the daughters of the house must have their share. Julia Ward was now nineteen, in the fulness of her early bloom. Her red-gold hair was no longer regarded as a misfortune; her gray eyes were large and well opened; her complexion of dazzling purity. Her finely chiselled features, and the beauty of her hands and arms, made an _ensemble_ which could not fail to impress all who saw her. Add to this her singing, her wit, and the charm which was all and always her own, and we have the _Diva Julia_, as she was called by some who loved her. Her sisters, also, were growing up, each exquisitely attractive in her way: they became known as the "Three Graces of Bond Street." Louisa was like a damask rose, Annie like a dark lily; dark, too, of eyes and hair were Sam and Marion, while Henry was fair and blue-eyed. At this distance of time, it may not be unpardonable to touch briefly on another aspect of our mother's youth; indeed, it would hardly be candid to avoid it. From the first she seems to have stirred the hearts of men. Her masters, old and young, fell in love with her almost as a matter of course. Gilded youth and sober middle-age fared no better; her girlhood passed to the sound of sighing. "My dear," said an intimate friend of the three, speaking of these days, "Louisa had her admirers, and Annie had hers; but when the men saw your mother, they just _flopped_!" Among her papers we have found many relics of these days, from the faded epistle addressed, "_à Julie, _la respectée_, _la choisie_, _l'aimée_, _la chérie_," to the stern letter in which Mr. Ward "desires not to conceal from the Rev. Mr. ---- the deliberate and dispassionate opinion, that a gentleman whose sacred office commanded ready access to his roof, might well have earlier ascertained the views of a widow'd Father on a subject so involving the happiness of his child." The unhappy suitor's note to Miss Julia is enclosed, and Mr. Ward trusts that "the return will be considered by the Rev. Mr. ---- as finally terminating the matter therein referred to." Julia had for her suitors a tender and compassionate sympathy. She could not love them, she would not marry them, but she was very sorry for them, and--it must be admitted--she liked to be adored. So she sang duets with one, read German with another, Anglo-Saxon with a third; for all, perhaps, she may have had something the feeling of her "_Coquette et Tendre_" in "Passion Flowers." Ere I knew life's sober meaning, Nature taught me simple wiles, Gave this color, rising, waning, Gave these shadows, deepening smiles.