“As some of the great fashionable parties do, where young women get merry with champagne, and young men get drunk,” said Grace. “Well,” said John, “I don’t exactly like the whole turn of the way things have been going at our house lately. I don’t like the influence of it on others. It is not in the line of the life I want to lead, and that we have all been trying to lead.” “Well,” said Gracie, “things will be settled now quietly, I hope.” “I say,” said John, “could not we start our little reading sociables, that were so pleasant last year? You know we want to keep some little pleasant thing going, and draw Lillie in with us. When a girl has been used to lively society, she can’t come down to mere nothing; and I am afraid she will be wanting to rush off to New York, and visit the Follingsbees.” “Well,” said Grace, “Letitia and Rose were speaking the other day of that, and wanting to begin. You know we were to read Froude together, as soon as the evenings got a little longer.” “Oh, yes! that will be capital,” said John. “Do you think Lillie will be interested in Froude?” asked Grace. “I really can’t say,” said John, with some doubting of heart; “perhaps it would be well to begin with something a little lighter, at first.” “Any thing you please, John. What shall it be?” “But I don’t want to hold you all back on my account,” said John. “Well, then again, John, there’s our old study-club. The Fergusons and Mr. Mathews were talking it over the other night, and wondering when you would be ready to join us. We were going to take up Lecky’s ‘History of Morals,’ and have our sessions Tuesday evenings,—one Tuesday at their house, and the other at mine, you know.” “I should enjoy that, of all things,” said John; “but I know it is of no use to ask Lillie: it would only be the most dreadful bore to her.” “And you couldn’t come without her, of course,” said Grace. “Of course not; that would be too cruel, to leave the poor little thing at home alone.” “Lillie strikes me as being naturally clever,” said Grace; “if she only would bring her mind to enter into your tastes a little, I’m sure you would find her capable.” “But, Gracie, you’ve no conception how very different her sphere of thought is, how entirely out of the line of our ways of thinking. I’ll tell you,” said John, “don’t wait for me. You have your Tuesdays, and go on with your Lecky; and I will keep a copy at home, and read up with you. And I will bring Lillie in the evening, after the reading is over; and we will have a little music and lively talk, and a dance or charade, you know: then perhaps her mind will wake up by degrees.” SCENE.—_After tea in the Seymour parlor. John at a table, reading. Lillie in a corner, embroidering._ _Lillie._ “Look here, John, I want to ask you something.” _John_,—putting down his book, and crossing to her, “Well, dear?” _Lillie._ “There, would you make a green leaf there, or a brown one?”