The conversation, if it deserves the name, was now interrupted by the entrance of a young woman, whom Mrs Dawkins introduced as her daughter July. Her figure was short, inclining to embonpoint--her face, though rather pretty, round and rosy,--and her whole appearance seemed the antipodes of sentiment. She had, however, a book in her hand, on which, after exchanging compliments with Laura, she cast a languishing look, and said, 'I have been paying a watery tribute to the sorrows of my fair name-sake.' Then pointing out the title-page to Laura, she added, 'You, I suppose, have often done so.' It was the tragedy of THE MINISTER, and Laura, reading the name aloud, said, she was not acquainted with it. 'Oh,' cried Mrs Dawkins, 'that's the young woman as swears so horridly. No, I dares to say, Miss Montreville never read no such thing. If it an't a shame to be seen in a Christian woman hands, it is. And if she would read it by herself, it would be nothing; but there she goes, ranting about the house like an actress, cursing all aloud, worser nor the drunken apple-woman at the corner of the street.' 'Pray Mamma, forbear,' said Miss Julia Dawkins, in a plaintive tone; 'it wounds my feelings to hear you. I am sure, if Miss Montreville would read this play, she would own that the expressions which you austerely denominate curses, give irresistible energy to the language.' 'This kind of energy,' said Laura, with a smile, 'has at least the merit of being very generally attainable.' This remark was not in Miss Julia's line. She had, therefore, recourse to her book, and with great variety of grimace, read aloud one of Casimir's impassioned, or, as Laura thought, frantic speeches. The curious contrast of the reader's manner, with her appearance, of the affected sentimentality of her air, with the robust vulgarity of her figure, struck Laura as so irresistibly ludicrous, that, though of all young ladies, she was the least addicted to tittering, her politeness would have been fairly defeated in the struggle, had it not been reinforced by the entrance of Mr and Mrs Jones. The former was a little man, in a snuff-coloured coat, and a brown wig, who seemed to be about fifty,--the latter was a good-humoured commonplace looking woman, of about half that age. Laura was pleased with the cordiality with which Mr Jones shook his mother-in-law by the hand, saying, 'Well, Mother, I's brought you Kate pure and hearty again, and the little fellow is fine and well, tho'f he be too young to come a wisiting.'