unreasonable showed what a leap he had suddenly made. It was not till several hours later that Mrs. Curtis and her daughter appeared--for this time Mary had insisted upon coming, defying papa. “We have done nothing but think of papa for the last three months,” she said. “I think we may be allowed a little of our own way now.” Mary was very exact and particular, the essence of English duty and exact young-ladyhood. But there is a point at which duty and self-abnegation stop; and certainly, after spending three months at a German bath, a handmaiden to gout, it is not to be expected that the fortnight in Paris was to be spent in absolute devotion at the same gloomy shrine, especially as the General was better, and wound up for the year by all the sulphur he had imbibed. The young lady came accordingly with her mother, curious, and, indeed, eager to see how the successful competitor acquitted herself. “Is she a lady?” Mary had said on the previous evening, cross-questioning her mother; but Mrs. Curtis had declined to commit herself. “She said nothing but no, that I heard. How could I tell from a No?” “I could have told if she had only coughed,” Miss Curtis replied; and it may be supposed with what keen eyes she was prepared to investigate her new cousin. They were so late of coming that Arthur had gone out, and Nancy, in her blue gown, sat by the fire alone just as the afternoon sank into twilight. They could not even see each other very clearly, and Nancy did not give them a very warm welcome. She stood up against the light, so that they could not make out a feature of her, and made them a stiff little bow, which was very awkward and self-conscious, yet not ungraceful. And then they seated themselves, not by Nancy’s invitation. The log blazed up compassionately now and then on the hearth, and threw a gleam upon the three half-perceptible faces. It was a strange little scene in that genteel comedy which we call real life. “I am sorry we are so late,” said Mrs. Curtis. “We have been seeing our friends and making a few necessary purchases; and it is astonishing how trifles take up a winter’s day; it is soon over at this time of the year. We have stayed longer than we meant to do in Germany, the weather has been so mild. I hope the General may be able to come to see you before we leave; but he has to take care of himself just now, after his baths.” As all this elicited no response, Mrs. Curtis continued. “Is Arthur out?” “Yes.” Nancy had intended to keep to her monosyllables, but it was difficult, and she added, in spite of herself, “I expect him back very soon; he thought it was too late for you to-day.” “I am so sorry; if he had been here he would have made us acquainted.” “On the contrary,” said Mary, striking in, “I think, if Mrs. Arthur will not mind, it is better my cousin should not be here. Women understand each other better alone. Don’t you think so? I feel sure of it, for my part.”