"Yes, yes, indeed, in all that pertains to his welfare and happiness. I could die for him this minute, and would if it were required. But there are things which I cannot do for him or any one. I cannot ignore my own conscience and sense of right. I cannot think his thoughts any more than he can think mine. You dear, melancholy little goose, don't you know that God never rolls two people into one, even after they are married? They are, or should be, one in a vital sense, yet they are different, independent beings, and were made so. I'd like to know of any one in this town more bent upon having her own way than you." Mara was silent, for Ella had a way of putting things which disturbed her. "Cousin Sophy," said Ella in the afternoon, "hasn't the proper time come for me to make my party call on Mrs. Willoughby? You are my Mentor in all that relates to etiquette, and that giddy fraction of the world termed society." "Well, yes," said the old lady, "I suppose it is time. In the case of Mrs. Willoughby it will be little more than a formality, for she is an acquaintance you will not care to cultivate. You may be lucky enough to find her out, and then your card will answer all the purposes of a call." "Oh, I know that much, cousin, if I am from the wilds of the interior; but if she is in, I suppose I should sit down and talk about the weather a little while." "Go along, you saucy puss. Tell her how shocked you were to see old Houghton's son in her parlors." "Well, I was at first. Bah! cousin, he's a great big boy, and doesn't know any more than I do about some things." "Well added. Tell her, then, we have enough Southern gentlemen remaining, and there is no necessity of inviting big Northern hobble-de-hoys." "Oh! I didn't mean that, cousin. Be fair now. He was gentlemanly enough, as much so as the rest of them, but he was young and giddy, like myself, just as you used to be and are now sometimes;" and she stopped the old lady's mouth with kisses, then ran to dress for the street. The kitchen Hebe of the morning was soon metamorphosed into a very charmingly costumed young woman. Even Miss Ainsley was compelled to recognize the lovely and harmonious effect, although it did not bear the latest brand of fashion, or represent costly expenditure. Both she and Mrs. Willoughby were pleased as Ella stepped lightly into the back parlor, and the young girl congratulated herself that she had come so opportunely, for they were evidently expecting visits like her own. One and another dropped in until Mrs. Willoughby was entertaining three or four in the front parlor. Miss Ainsley remained chatting with Ella, who felt that the Northern girl's remarks were largely tentative, evincing a wish to draw her out. Shrewd Ella soon began to generalize to such a degree that Miss Ainsley thought, "You are no fool," and had a growing respect for the "little baker," as she had termed the young girl.