"Mrs. Amory? I think she's _lovely_," then as quickly relapsed into her fit of abstraction. Evidently Mr. Brandon's well-meant interruptions were not especially welcome there; then, as we reached the house on Royal Street, Major Vinton, seated at the window, waved us (_us_ indeed!) a joyous greeting, and, despite Miss Summers' most courteous invitation to come in a while, Mr. Brandon felt that he had been interloping long enough, and having thus partially come to his senses, the narrator walked dolefully away. In the week that followed, there were almost daily visits between the ladies of the Royal and Camp Street households. Vinton had sufficiently improved to be able to drive out every day and to take very short walks, accompanied by his radiant _fiancée_. Much mysterious shopping was going on, Mrs. Amory and Kitty being occupied for some hours each bright morning in accompanying Miss Summers on her Canal Street researches. Mars had returned to duty with his troop, and almost every evening could be seen riding down to Royal Street to report to his captain how matters were progressing. I was struck by the regularity and precision with which those reports seemed to be necessary, and the absolute brevity of their rendition. Having nothing better to do, as I fancied, I was frequently there at Royal Street when Mars would come trotting down the block pavement. Each evening seemed to add to the spring and activity with which he would vault from the saddle; toss the reins to his attendant orderly, and come leaping up the steps to the second floor. "All serene" was the customary extent of his report to Vinton, who was almost invariably playing backgammon with Miss Summers at that hour; while the judge, Harrod, and I would be discussing the affairs of the day in a distant corner. This left Kitty the only unoccupied creature in the room, unless the listless interest bestowed upon the book she held in her lap could be termed occupation. What more natural, therefore, than that Mr. Amory should turn to her for conversation and entertainment on his arrival? And then Kitty had improved so in health and spirits of late. She was so blithe and gay; humming little snatches of song; dancing about the old house like a sprite; striving very hard to settle down and be demure when I came to see the judge; and never entirely succeeding until Amory appeared, when she was the personification of maidenly reserve and propriety. Occasionally Mars would escort his mother down, and then there would be a joyous gathering, for we had all learned to love her by this time; and as for Vinton--Miss Summers once impetuously declared that she was with good reason becoming jealous. When _she_ came, Kitty would quit her customary post on the sofa; take a low chair, and actually hang about Mrs. Amory's knees; and all Mars' chances for a _tête-à-tête_ were gone. Nevertheless, he was losing much of the old shyness, and apparently