made me lie on the sofa while she sat beside me, and chatted with me in her peculiarly piquant and amusing manner. It was very nice and comfortable to be treated so; but I could not help wondering what her other guests would think of her for absenting herself from them so much. It was a matter of very little moment to Miss Janet, however, what any one but "Papa" thought of her, and she was sure of a tender judgment from him always; but at last it seemed to strike her that even he might consider it rather negligent to leave the parlor so long, so springing up, she said: "I must go back to those people; but remember, you are not to stir; or, yes, you may sit here by the table, and look over these engravings. You are not fit to be dragged about making visits; they're a set of heathens to make you go. I know you hate it. What _is_ the matter, really, now?" she said, abruptly, stooping over me, and fixing her black eyes on my face. "You don't look like the same girl latterly. If I hadn't known you before, I should have thought you were tiresome and mopish and had no spirit. I like you better than your French cousins, and I wish you'd come and stay with me. Won't you? I'll make Papa coax Mrs. Churchill to let you stay after they go." I shook my head and sighed. "You look as if it were no use to talk about it; but I don't give it up, though I must go to the parlor. I shall come back and look after you every little while, and I'm going to send some one to entertain you while I'm gone." "Oh! I'd rather not--I'd rather be quiet"---- Miss Janet shook her head with a very pretty determined shake. "You shall have somebody that won't bore you--somebody that I like and that you like; the only man here, in point of fact, worth talking to, except Papa," and she ran off. I leaned back in my chair and tried to be patient; since we left Windy Hill every minute had grown longer than the last. I had been in a fever of anxiety about the effect our absence might produce on Victor. I knew his morbid bitterness would construe it into a willful thing on my part, and that the neglect would seem unpardonable and cruel. The evening had seemed interminable, and no one dreamed of going yet. In a few moments I heard Miss Emerson's voice in the hall, and Mr. Rutledge's in reply. "Of course, since you desire it, I will do my best to be entertaining; but you know you have not told me who it is I am to devote myself to." "O, you shall see for yourself; go in the library, she is there, and be sure you amuse and please her, for she's my particular favorite," and with a laugh and a nod, she left him in the door. Mr. Rutledge started a little, and did not look very much pleased when he recognized me; but there was no help, so he sat down beside me at the table. "Miss Emerson told me she should send some one to entertain me. I didn't know she meant to send you."