Rose's face became crimson, and she involuntarily moved further away from Dolly. "None of that now," said that lady, "such airs won't go down with me. It is a pity if I can't speak to my own sister's child." Rose thought this was the only light in which she was likely to view the relationship, but she was too wise to reply. "There's no knowing," said Dolly, "what you may have learned among those children at the Asylum." "You put me there, Aunt Dolly," said Rose. "Of course I put you there, but did I tell you to learn all the bad things you saw?" "You didn't tell me not; but I never would take what belonged to another." "Shut up now--you are just like your mother ex--actly;" and Dolly stopped here, considering that she could go no further in the way of invective. And now they were nearing the village. Rose thought it looked much prettier at a distance than near. There was an ugly, dirty tavern in the main street, on whose gaudy sign-board was painted "The Rising Sun;" and on whose piazza were congregated knots of men, smoking, chewing, swearing, and bargaining, by turns; for it was cattle-fair Monday, and the whole population was astir. Herds of cattle; sheep, cows, calves, oxen, and pigs, divided off into little crowded pens, stood bleating and lowing in the blazing sun, half dead with thirst, while their owners were chaffering about prices. On the opposite side of the street were temporary booths, whose owners were making the most of the day by opening oysters, and uncorking bottles for the ravenous farmers; little boys stood by, greedily devouring the dregs of the glasses whenever they could dodge a boxed ear. A few sickly trees were planted here and there, at the sides of the road, which seemed to have dwindled away in disgust at their location. On a small patch of green, dignified by the name of the Park, an ill-assorted, heterogeneous company were drilling for 'lection, presenting arms, etc., in a manner that would have struck Napoleon dumb. Dolly's house was on the further side of "the Park," a two story wooden tenement, of a bright red color, planted on a sand bank close to the road side, unornamented with a single green thing, if we may except some gawky boys who were eyeing the tin soldiers and peppermint candy in the milliner's window, and who had been attentively listening to the swearing cattle-dealers and picking up stray lobster-claws which good fortune had thrown in their way. "That _her_?" whispered Daffodil (Dolly's factotum), pointing to Rose, as she assisted Dolly to alight. Dolly nodded. "Why--she'd be a real beauty if she was only a little fatter, and didn't stoop, and her eyes weren't so big, and she wasn't so pale." "I don't see any beauty," mumbled Dolly, "she looks exactly like her mother." "O no--of course she isn't a beauty," said Daffy, retracting her involuntary mistake, "she don't favor you in the least Dolly; I said she would be pretty if--"