"And the handsomest face I ever saw with one exception," said Mr. Wilmot, glancing admiringly toward Julia. Mr. Miller followed the direction of his eyes and as he saw the brilliant beauty of Julia, he sighed for fear his young friend might or had already become entangled in her dark meshes. Just then Fanny exclaimed, "Oh, how handsome; look mother—Julia, isn’t she perfectly beautiful!" And then she added, "But, Mr. Wilmot, is she as good as she is beautiful?" "How absurd," said Julia hastily; "just as though one cannot be handsome and good too." "I didn’t say they couldn’t, sister," said Fanny; "but I thought—yes, I’m sure she looks a little selfish!" "Upon my word you’re very polite," said Julia. "Mr. Wilmot will doubtless feel complimented by what you say of his sister." "Never mind, Fanny," said Mr. Wilmot; "never mind; you are more of a physiognomist than I thought you were, for Kate’s great fault is being too selfish; but she will overcome that in time, I think." "Oh, I am sure so," quickly rejoined Fanny, regretting her words and anxious to do away with any unfavorable impression she might have made. So she went up to Mr. Wilmot and laying her hand on his shoulder, said, "I am sorry if I said anything bad of your sister. She is very beautiful and I think I should love her very much. Do you think she will ever come to Kentucky?" "I hardly think she will," said Mr. Wilmot; "but I think you would like her, and I am sure she would love you. I often write to her about my two Kentucky sisters." "Oh, do you," said Fanny, clapping her white, dimpled hands, "do you really call us both sisters? And do you tell her how much handsomer Julia is than I am, and how much more she knows?" "And how much more does she know?" said Mr. Miller, who was always interested in whatever Fanny said. "Oh, she knows a ’heap’ more than I do," said Fanny, "I fear I haven’t improved much since you left, for Mr. Wilmot is so very indulgent that he never scolds when my lessons are but half-learned, but consoles himself, I suppose, with Julia’s great long yarns." "And are Julia’s lessons so very long?" asked Mr. Miller. "Yes, sir," replied Fanny. "It is the wonder of all the girls how she manages to commit so much to memory in so short a time, for she never brings home her books and she spends two-thirds of her time, during school hours, in writing something on a sheet of foolscap. We girls have our own suspicions about that paper, for when her lesson is very hard we notice that she is unusually confined to her notes." Here Julia angrily exclaimed, "Fanny, what do you mean? Do you intend to insinuate that I write my lesson down and then read it?" "Fire and fury," said Mr. Middleton, who had been an attentive listener, "what’s all this about? Tempest, do you write down your task? Good reason why you don’t bring home your books. Speak, girl, quick—are you guilty of such meanness?"