It must be owned that Joe Nelligan's confusion during the delivery of this prophetic criticism was far greater than Catty's own, who received the speech with a low, gentle laugh, while Mrs. Nelligan went on: “I made her stay till you came back, Joe, for I wanted her to see what a tall creature you are, and not more than twenty,--her own age to a month; and I told her what a genius you turned out, indeed, to the surprise of us all, and myself, especially.” “Thank you, mother,” said he, smiling. “No, indeed, my dear, 't is your father you may thank for all your talents and abilities; a wonderful man he is, beginning the world without a sixpence; and there he is now, with I 'm sure I don't know how many hundreds a year in land,--ay, Catty, in broad acres; just like any squire in the county. Well, well, there 's many a change come over the country since you were here,--how many years is it now?” “Upwards of twelve,” said the young girl. “Dear me, how time flies! It seems like yesterday that you and Joe had the measles together, in the yellow room up at Broom Lodge, and your poor mother was alive then, and would insist on giving you everything cool to drink, just because you liked it, though I told her that was exactly the reason it was sure to be bad for you; for there 's nothing so true in life,--that everything we wish for is wrong.” “An unpleasant theory, certainly,” said Catty, laughing; “but I hope not of universal application, for I have been long wishing to see you again.” “Well, well, who knows whether it may be good or bad,” said she, sighing; “not but I 'm pleased to see you growing up the image of your poor dear mother,--taller, maybe, but not so handsome, nor so genteel-looking; but when you have your trials and troubles, as she had, maybe that will come, too, for I often remarked, there 's nothing like affliction to make one genteel.” “Why, mother, you are profuse in unhappy apothegms this morning,” said Joe. “And you are coming to stay amongst us now, Catty; or are you going back to France again?” said Mrs. Nelligan, not heeding the remark. “I scarcely know, as yet,” replied the young girl. “My father's letter to summon me home said something about placing me as a governess, if I were capable of the charge.” “Of course you are, my dear, after all your advantages; not but that I 'd rather see you anything else,--a nice light business; for instance, in baby-linen or stationery, or in Miss Busk's establishment, if that could be accomplished.” A very slight flush--so slight as to be nearly imperceptible--crossed the young girl's cheek, but not a syllable escaped her, as Mrs. Nelligan resumed,-- “And there was an excellent opening the other day at the Post here, in the circulating-library way, and lending out a newspaper or two. I don't know how much you might make of it. Not but maybe you 'd rather be companion to a lady, or what they call a 'nervous invalid.'”