The next month was past in receiving and returning visits; and the most pleasing among them was a sociable day passed at Rose-Hill, the seat of Sir William Cecil. Miss Cecil promised, if Juliet, who now for some time had been tolerably well, should continue so, that Ellen should see her; though she very seldom admitted any company: "But I have said so much of you," said Laura, "that she is quite anxious to see you; and I am particularly anxious to familiarize her to you, both as it will I am sure give her pleasure, and facilitate our being often together." Accordingly, after dinner, when they left the gentlemen, Miss Cecil led Lady St. Aubyn to Juliet's apartment. Never had Ellen seen so interesting a being: this fair creature, now about fifteen, was a perfect model of beauty and symmetry; though so slightly formed, she appeared, "like a fairy vision, or some bright creature of the element:" her cheeks were faintly tinged with a hectic blush; her eyes were of the most dazzling brightness; her lips like coral; and her teeth of pearly whiteness; her fair hair was covered with a fine lace cap, and her fragile form enveloped in a large shawl. "My love," said Laura, "here is Lady St. Aubyn, who is so good as to come and see you." Juliet extended her white hand, and said in a voice of peculiar harmony, fixing at the same time her sparkling and penetrating eyes on Ellen's face, as if she wished to read her heart in her countenance, "Laura says she loves you already, and I am sure _I_ shall." The simple naïvetè of her voice and manner went to the heart of Ellen, who could not help embracing her tenderly, while she felt the tears start to her eyes at seeing one so young and lovely in a state of health so precarious. After a little more conversation, Ellen put her hand accidentally on a small book which lay half concealed by one of the pillows of Juliet's couch, and said with that native politeness which ever prevented her from doing any thing rude or intrusive, "May I look at the subject of your studies?" "Yes," said Juliet, with an angelic smile, "If you please." Ellen opened the book. It was in a character totally unknown to her. "Do you read Greek?" asked the fair Juliet, with a simplicity and absence of design which proved her question was serious; and this interrogation, which would from most people to a young woman be absolutely ridiculous, from Juliet appeared merely a natural wish to know whether her new friend was as able as herself to read the book she held in her hand; for strange as it may appear, it was a copy of the New Testament in Greek; and Juliet read it as easily as if it had been English.