The long wished-for time, when Winnie should appear in public, as the accomplished Miss Santon, at length arrived.  Several hundred cards had been issued for the occasion, and to Winnie’s delight but few regrets had been received; “for,” said she, “what is the use of doing things by the halves?” Mrs. Santon’s health had for the last few days been much improved; so much so, that Winnie had gained from her the promise to fill her station for a part of the evening.  The brilliant lights already streamed from every window in the mansion, and the finishing touch, (if such a thing can be said of a lady’s toilet,) had been made by Winnie’s attendant, much to the satisfaction of all concerned; for although the beauty was willing to submit to all the tortures of hair-dressing, etc., etc., yet before she was quite converted into a “Parisian belle,” she positively declared she would suffer none of those officials to come into her presence again for a month.  Surveying herself with an air which would have done credit to a queen, she proceeded to the Sea-flower’s apartments, thinking to banter her a little in her endeavors to make perfection perfect; but instead of finding her still in dishabille, she had long ago dismissed her attendant, and was quietly engaged in reading her bible, before she engaged in those scenes of gaiety which had less attractions for her.

“Why, you charming creature!” exclaimed Winnie, “I can’t help comparing you to a fairy, preparing for a camp-meeting!” and her wild laugh was heard reechoing from hall to hall, Natalie smiling at her ludicrous comparison.

“Why do you look at me with such a bewildered gaze, Winnie?  Is my simple dress not to your fastidious taste?”

“You could not have found anything more becoming, Natie dear; you will eclipse us all!” and Winnie, taking both her hands in hers, gazed into her face as if spell-bound.

“I have seen some beautiful picture, somewhere,” she exclaimed, “which is like you! but where, I cannot tell; and yet, when I look at you, the association is so fresh in my mind!  Yes, you will be our evening star.”

“Venus is morning star now,” said Natalie, glancing at the brilliant dress of Winnie; “yet for all that, she will favor us with her presence this evening.”

As the two descended to the boudoir, they were met by Mr. Santon, who, shutting his eyes, exclaimed,—­“Bless me!  I have looked upon the glorious morning, in the beauty of its freshness, and the gentle evening, so pure, but to see them approaching, hand in hand, is too much for any ‘live man!’”