And now we were again at home--at home--no longer home to me. And Alice with her silk gown and her great white muslin apron which I had braided for her, with the cap of lace and white ribbons which I had made, and her little white shawl fastened with a brooch which Harry had given her, and which contained some of my hair. Alice stood by my chair, sometimes forgetting that she had to attend to the party at table, and only remembering that she had to cry over, and comfort, and encourage me. Harry was in wild spirits, too joyous, almost flighty--like a man who has just achieved some wonderful triumph; but is scarcely quite aware of it yet. His name was Southcote now, and my name was unchanged. My father sat at the head of the table, beside us--he was grave, but much calmer than he had been in the morning, and I thought he watched Harry, and Harry avoided his eye in a manner which was strange to me. Mr. Osborne and his niece were a great relief to us--this event, which was so momentous to us, was nothing to them but a little occasion of festivity to which they had to contribute a reasonable portion of gaiety. They came to rejoice with those who did rejoice, and they were certainly the most successful in the company. The table was gay with flowers, and there were the sweet pale Cottiswoode roses, like friends from home, with dew upon their leaves, and the faint fragrance stealing through the room. I wondered once more where Alice had got them--for my own part I was not now excited; I had fallen into a lull of composure, and was watching everybody. I remember the little speech Mr. Osborne made--full of real kindness; but with a little mock formality in it, as if a large party had been present, when he drank our healths; and I remember the glow upon Harry's face, and the gleam in his eyes, when he without any mockery stretched out his hand to him, and thanked him. Miss Osborne sat by me in her rustle and flutter of finery, whispering jokes and kind words into my ear; telling me not to look so pale--not to blush so much--to compose myself and a great many other young lady-like sayings, and I began to think that though it was not very comfortable, it might be very good to be "supported" by Miss Osborne, since I carefully strove to banish all trace of feeling from my face, that I might be saved from her criticisms. We sat at table an unmercifully long time; but though I could see Harry was as impatient as I was, and though he was constantly looking at his watch, and whispering that it would soon be time to go away, no one else seemed disposed to release us. At length my father rose, and we all went into the drawing-room, where the table was covered with cards and envelopes. My father lifted one of the little packets and took a note from it to show to me. It was addressed to my cousin, and very formally and politely informed him of what had taken place to-day. "I thought it right to let him know; what do you think, Harry?" said my