She had no jewels, no elaborate _lingerie_ like Josephine with which to make herself attractive; but she had a way of giving herself such a touch of elegance with these little accessories, despite her simple attire, that no one could pass her by unnoticed; and now, with that new-born smile of happiness on her ripe lips, that light of love and hope in her eyes, and the coming and going color in her cheeks, she was fairest of the fair. When her toilet was completed she sat down by her window—which, although in the third story, was upon the front of the house, where she could look directly down upon the porch, and also commanded a view of the winding avenue which led down to the road—to watch for the return of the coach and the coming of the illustrious guest. Sitting there, she fell to musing—to thinking of the time when she should go back to dear old England, the land of her birth, the home of her love. Only a few months more and her course of study would be finished; a little more of faithful application to her books, a little season of patience and forbearance, then a life of brightness and happiness. Some one would come for her then, and she would go away forever from the slights, and sneers, and malice which had made her life so cheerless and forlorn, so hard to endure during the past year. So absorbed did she become thinking of this, that she did not hear the carriage when it turned in at the gate and came smoothly rolling up over the hard, graveled drive-way, and it had almost reached the door before she was aware that at last the noted, titled stranger had arrived. She leaned out to look as the spirited horses were reined in before the porch, and the sound of laughter and gay voices came floating up to her ears. A tall, darkly clad figure sprang out and held forth a hand to assist Josephine to alight; but a massive post was in the way, and she could not see his face. Mr. Richards followed the young people, and they all passed up the steps together. It was a pretty picture that she looked down upon, for now she could see all that transpired. Mrs. Richards, handsome as any queen in her elegant black silk dress and duchesse laces, her diamonds gleaming like drops of dew in a moonlit night; Josephine, bright and sparkling in an elaborate street dress, with her jaunty hat and bright plumes, standing proudly beside the finely formed young man as he exchanged greetings with her mother; and Mr. Richards, stout and comely, a perfect pattern of the hospitable host, with his good-natured face, which was expressive of a most cordial welcome. But Star had grown suddenly pale as snow, and caught her breath convulsively, as a clear, manly laugh rang out on the air at some jest of Josephine’s, and then the stranger turned, hat in hand, having made his bow to his hostess, to speak to Mr. Richards, and thus she could look directly into his face.