“Perhaps, if you helped mother a little things would be more comfortable than they are,” remonstrated Laura, the younger sister, who generally took upon herself the part of Mentor. “You must know that her income isn’t enough to keep up this place as it ought to be kept.” “I don’t know anything of the kind. I believe she is hoarding and scraping for you two girls; but she’ll find by-and-by that she has been penny wise and pound foolish, for nobody worth having will ever propose to Juliet in such a dismal hole as this,” continued the baronet, scornfully surveying the old-fashioned furniture, which had never been vivified by modern frivolities, or made more luxurious by modern inventions. “Juliet is not the beginning and end of our lives,” replied Laura, sourly. “She has plenty of opportunities, if she were only capable of using them. I know her visiting costs a small fortune.” “A very small one,” said Juliet; “I have fewer gowns than any girl I meet, and have to give smaller tips when I am leaving. The servants are hardly civil to me when I go back to a house.” “I dare say not,” retorted Laura, “considering that you expect other people’s maids to do more for you than your own maid would do, if you had one.” Juliet sighed, and shrugged her graceful shoulders. “It is all very horrid and very sordid,” she said, “and I wish I were dead.” “I don’t go so far as that,” replied Laura, “but I wish with all my heart you were married, and that mother and I could live in peace.” All this meant that the handsome Miss Baldwin was seven and twenty, and that although she had drunk the cup of praise from men and women, not one eligible man with place and fortune to offer had offered himself. Eligible men had admired and had praised and had flattered, and had ridden away, like the knight of old, and had married some other girl; a girl with money generally, an American girl sometimes. Juliet Baldwin hated the very name of Columbus. For want of some one better to flirt with, Juliet had flirted with Harrington Dalbrook. He was her junior by two years, and on his first visit to the Mount had succumbed to her beauty, and to the charm of manners which somewhat exaggerated the progressive spirit of the smart world. Miss Baldwin was amused by her conquest, though she had no idea of allowing her acquaintance with her brother’s friend to travel beyond the strictest limits of that state of things which our neighbours call “flirtage.” But “flirtage” nowadays is somewhat comprehensive; and with Juliet it went so far as to allow her admirer to gratify her with offerings of gloves and flowers for her ball-dresses, when she was staying with friends in Belgravia, and the young man was taking a holiday in London.