“There, my fair sister, you are slightly mistaken,” interrupted John Jr., who was going on farther in his remarks, when Durward asked if “she ever left any _marks_ of her affection,” referring to the scratch she had given Carrie; who, before her brother had time to speak, replied that “the _will_ and the _claws_ remained the same, though common decency kept them hidden when it was necessary.” “That’s downright slander,” said John Jr., determined now upon defending his cousin, “’Lena has a high temper, I acknowledge, but she tries hard to govern it, and for nearly two years I’ve not seen her angry once, though she’s had every provocation under heaven.” “She knows _when_ and _where_ to be amiable,” retorted Carrie. “Any one of her admirers would tell the same story with yourself.” At this juncture John Jr. was called for a moment from the room, and Carrie, fearing she had said too much, immediately apologized to Durward, saying, “it was not often that she allowed herself to speak against her cousin, and that she should not have done so now, were not John so much blinded, that her mother, knowing Lena’s ambitious nature, sometimes seriously feared the consequence. I know,” said she, “that John fancies Nellie, but ’Lena’s influence over him is very great.” Durward made no reply, and Carrie continued: “I’m always sorry when I speak against ’Lena; she is my cousin, and I wouldn’t prejudice any one against her; so you must forget my unkind remarks, which would never have been uttered in the presence of a stranger. She _is_ handsome and agreeable, and you must like her in spite of what I said.” “I cannot refuse when so fair a lady pleads her cause,” was Durward’s gallant answer, and as the other young ladies then entered the room, the conversation ceased. Meanwhile ’Lena was very differently employed. Nearly a year had elapsed since she had seen her cousins, and her heart bounded with joy at the thought of meeting Anna, whom she dearly loved. Carrie was to her an object of indifference, rather than dislike, and ofttimes had she thought, “If she would only let me love her.” But it could not be, for there was no affinity between them. Carrie was proud and overbearing—jealous of her high-spirited cousin, who, as John Jr. had said, strove hard to subdue her temper, and who now seldom resented Carrie’s insults, except when they were leveled at her aged grandmother.