“Oh yes! she is disengaged,” said Miss Sallianna, with a languishing smile; “the dear child has been roaming over the garden and around the ensuing hills since the first appearance of the radiant orb of Sol, madam.  I think such perambulations healthy.”

Miss Lavinia said that she agreed with her.

“Reddy, as I call your lovely little niece—­your cousin, eh?—­is one of my most cherished pupils, madam; and I discover in her so many charming criterions of excellence, that I am sure she will grow up an object of interest to everybody.  There she is out on the lawn.  I will call her, madam, and if you would dispense with my society for a short time, I will again return, and we will discuss my favorite subject, the beauties of nature.”

Miss Lavinia having, by a solemn movement of the head, indicated her willingness to languish without her hostess’ society for a short period, Miss Sallianna rose, and made her exit from the apartment, with upraised eyes and gently smiling lips.

Five minutes afterwards Redbud ran in, laughing and rosy-cheeked.

“Oh, cousin Lavinia!” she cried, “I’m so glad to see you!”

Miss Lavinia enclosed her young relation in a dignified embrace, and kissed her solemnly.

“I am very glad to see you looking so well, Redbud,” she said, indicating a cricket at her feet, upon which Miss Redbud accordingly seated herself.  I have not been able before to come and see you, but Miss Scowley gives me excellent accounts of you.”

“Does she!” laughed Redbud.

“Yes.”

Redbud laughed again.

“What is the cause of your amusement?” said Miss Lavinia.

“Oh, I only meant that she told everybody who came, that everybody was good.”

“Hum!”

“She does,” said Redbud.

“Then you mean that you do not deserve her praise?”

“Oh, I did’nt mean that, cousin Lavinia!  I’m very glad she likes me.  I want everybody to like me.  But it’s true.”

“I believe you are good, Redbud,” Miss Lavinia said, calmly.

“I hope so, ma’am.”

“Are you happy here?”

“Oh yes, ma’am—­except that I would like to be at home to see you all.”

“Do you miss us?”

“Oh yes, indeed!”

Miss Lavinia cleared her throat, and began to revolve her address to be delivered.

“You do not see us very often, Redbud,” she said,—­“I mean myself and your father—­but from what I have heard this morning, that young man Verty still visits you.”

Redbud colored, and did not reply.

Miss Lavinia’s face assumed an expression of mingled severity and dignity, and she said to the girl: 

“Redbud, I am sorry you do not observe the advice I gave you,—­of course, I have no right to command you, and you are now growing old enough to act for yourself in these things.  You are nearly seventeen, and are growing to be a woman.  But I fear you are deficient in resolution, and still encourage the visits of this young man.”