Her understanding was more matured, her fancy brighter, her acquirements larger than those of Margaret. She had not been to a boarding-school; and she had gained from her mother's thoughtful mind, more education than from all her masters. She was less beautiful than Margaret--less graceful, but more elegant; there was more of style about her appearance, and less of simplicity. Therefore she looked older than she was, and Margaret younger. And in the details of domestic life, she was perhaps more formed than Margaret, to interest the fancy and excite the attention. She was accustomed to make all those little demands upon the sympathy and assistance of those around her, which you see so constantly in French women, and which are generally attractive to men in this country, perhaps from their contrast to the more quiet and independent habits of English women in general. If she wished to give little Jane a bonnet and cloak, Mr. Haveloc and her mamma were summoned to the table, and were obliged to look over the patterns the servant had brought from the neighbouring town, and discuss the colour and fashion of the garments. And Mr. Haveloc was desired to walk down to Brand's cottage, and look at the child to see whether red or blue would suit her best; and to inquire after Mrs. Brand's health, and to ask the best of the two Toms, whether he had yet been able to find that specimen of sea-weed that Miss Fitzpatrick wanted to complete her orders of Cryptogamia. Those persons who spend their lives in wandering from place to place, little know how much of interest they forfeit in not having a settled place of abode. So many little elegant trifles accumulate in a home that can never be packed up and carried from one hired residence to another. Mrs. Fitzpatrick's was just the sort of house where one might lounge away the morning delightfully. Chairs and sofas of all patterns were scattered about the room; drawn to the carved tables, or placed temptingly near the large, open window, from which you could step at once into the garden, where the finest flowers filled the air with their perfume, and seemed to overrun the wire baskets in which they were planted. The tables were strewn with books and prints; with cameos, carvings and choice miniatures. Aveline's painting was generally on a reading stand near the sofa, and a little lava tray of modelling tools stood on a slab at the farthest end of the room, covered by a cambric handkerchief with a foreign border of brilliant colours.