If there was anything which Katy liked more than another in the way of study, it was French. She had excelled in it at Canandaigua, and while abroad had taken great pains to acquire a pure pronunciation, so that she spoke it with a good deal of fluency, and readily comprehended Bell. “I did not mean to be rude,” she said, earnestly. “I liked Italy so much, and we expected to stay longer; but that does not hinder my liking to be here. I hope I did not offend you.” “Certainly not; you are an honest little puss,” Bell replied, placing her hand caressingly upon the curly head laying back so wearily on the chair. “Here in New York we have a bad way of not telling the whole truth, but you will soon be used to it.” “Used to not telling the truth! Oh, I hope not!” and this time the blue eyes lifted so wonderingly to Bell’s face had in them a startled look. “Simpleton!” was Juno’s mental comment, while Bell’s was, “I like the child,” as she continued to smooth the golden curls and wind them round her finger, wondering if Katy had a taste for metaphysics, that being the last branch of science which she had taken up. “I suppose you find Will a pattern husband,” Juno said after a moment’s pause, and Katy replied, “There never could be a better, I am sure, and I have been very happy.” “Has he never said one cross word to you in all these six months?” was Juno’s next question, to which Katy answered truthfully, “Never.” “And lets you do as you please?” “Yes, just as I please,” Katy replied, while Juno continued, “He must have changed greatly then from what he used to be; but marriage has probably improved him. He tells you all his _secrets_, too, I presume?” Anxious that Wilford should appear well in every light, Katy replied at random, “Yes, if he has any.” “Well, then,” and in Juno’s black eyes there was a wicked look, “perhaps you will tell me who was or is the original of that picture he guards so carefully.”