He soon after left the house, merely mentioning as he went out, that he should be home to dinner at four. In half an hour from this the carriage was dispatched to the steamboat landing—at the same time that Hagar went into her room attended by Mrs. Collins, to dress her twins for exhibition to her expected relatives. Following the bent of her delicate poetic fancy she would never dress them in anything but white, of the finest and softest material—nor ever place about them coral, amber, or gold, or any hard or heavy substance; and when she had dressed them, very lovely they looked with their little black, silky heads, and small features full of soft repose, as she laid them to sleep in the crib, so that they might wake up bright and beautiful when Sophie should arrive. But a deep-drawn sigh chased the smile from the young mother’s face, as she looked upon her treasures, writhing in the thought that the duties of the wife and mother should ever be supposed to conflict—that the happiness of the wife and mother should ever be placed in opposition. Then Hagar arranged her own dress, and sighed again to observe by her mirror how haggard she was looking—knowing this to be the effect not of her maternal devotion, as Raymond insisted, but of wasting anxiety caused by his tantalizing alternate affection and coldness—by her nights without sleep, and days without appetite, and consequently without nourishment. She had even to gather away from her face her beautiful ringlets; their falling, long and black, each side of her pale thin face, increased its pallor by contrast, while they gave it a hatchetlike sharpness. She had just completed her unsatisfactory toilet, when the roll of carriage wheels on the gravel walk leading to the house, the ring of the street-door bell, and soon the hushed sound of several softly mingling voices in the hall, announced to her the arrival of her guests. She hurried down to receive them. To receive them! They received _her_ in their full affection rather! for soon as gliding down the broad staircase, she saw the group advancing in the amber-hued light of the hall, she felt herself caught to the soft bosom of Sophie, while the arms of Rosalia were folded around her. “Run here, uncle! give us your hands,” exclaimed Gusty May, holding out both his hands to Captain Wilde, who caught them, and they laughingly formed a ring round the three women, clasping them all together in a close embrace. Sophie smilingly loosened the knot, dispersing the group; and Hagar giving her hand to Captain Wilde, and then to Gusty, opened the drawing-room door, showing them in—begging them to excuse her absence and amuse themselves, while she showed Sophie and Rosalia to their rooms. Then as she turned to attend them, Rose’s arms were around her again, and she said as they went up stairs,