"Yes," replied Harry, "I could scarcely restrain a smile, when I was introduced to her; who is she, Miss Raymond?" "She is the daughter of old Digby, the great confectioner; he has retired from business, and lives in grand style, with his carriages, and his town and country house; but you can see the vulgarity of the people, for who but a Digby would ever have thought of diamonds at such a party?" "And who was that little Miss Austin? I mean the one dressed in simple white, seated in the corner?" asked Lavinia. "I don't know," was Harry's reply, "but she was evidently a lady; so quiet! so refined! with such a low sweet voice, and dressed in such excellent taste--did you observe how much attention was paid to her?" "Yes, I wonder who she is; the Browns, the Starrs, and the Carsons were very polite to her; and you know that they are really our first people; she must be somebody, for she had such a distinguished air." Helen let them run on with their folly, and then quietly remarked with a meaning smile, "Miss Austin is a governess in the family of the lady whom you were visiting; her father was a sea-captain, and her mother conducted a young ladies' school for many years; indeed, until her death; her daughter, who is highly accomplished, is obliged to earn her own living--she is a lady of great worth and intelligence, and, happily, is with a family who knows how to value such gifts." Helen and Madeline were both amused at the disconcerted expression upon the faces of Harry and Lavinia. "Really!" said the latter; "I never was more mistaken in all my life, for I took her for a lady of high rank." "What are we coming to?" responded Harry, "when the daughters of confectioners and teachers can aspire to mingle with the best circles? I should not wonder if shoemakers and tailors would creep in. Indeed, I have met with one who was formerly a common boot-black in society where _I_ visit; I am amazed at his presumption, for Roland Bruce was nothing more." Madeline could restrain herself no longer--for although Helen tried to hold her down, she arose with dignity from her chair, while a crimson glow covered her whole face, and regardless of the presence of strangers, she said, "And do you presume, Harry Castleton, to look down upon such persons as Miss Austin and Roland Bruce? you, with your empty head!" (and she tapped her pretty head with unconscious scorn,) "and they with their noble character, and brilliant powers of intellect--I am sorry for you, Harry, with such a _pretty little figure!_ and such a _paltry little soul_! Will it ever grow beyond a pigmy's? Roland Bruce will shine among the great and good, when you are entirely forgotten." Harry withered beneath her rebuke; and even Lavinia, whose lip curled in contempt, for the moment looked awe-struck.