“Upon my word, you do look very well,” said Henry, coming for a moment to his sister’s side.  “Why, you’d be the star of the evening, were it not for ma belle Ella.  See, there she comes,” and he pointed to a group just entering the room.

An expression of contempt curled Rose’s lip, as she glanced at Ella, and thought of being outshone by her dollish figure and face.  “I’m in no danger, unless a more formidable rival than that silly thing appears,” thought she; and she drew up her slender form with a more queenly grace, and bowed somewhat haughtily to Ella, who came up to greet her.  There was a world of affection in Ella’s soft hazel ayes, as they looked eagerly up to Henry, who for the sake of torturing the young girl feigned not to see her until she had stood near him some minutes.  Then offering her his hand he said, with the utmost nonchalance, “Why, Ella, are you here?  I was watching so anxiously for your sister that I did not notice your entrance.”

Ella had dressed herself for the party with more than usual care, and as she smoothed down the folds of her delicate pink silk, and shook back her long glossy curls, she thought, “He cannot think Mary handsomer than I am to-night;” and now when the first remark he addressed to her was concerning her sister, she replied rather pettishly, “I believe you are always thinking about Mary.”

“Now, don’t be jealous,” returned Henry, “I only wish to see the contrast between you.”

Ella fancied that the preference would of course be in her favor, and casting aside all unpleasant feelings, she exerted herself to the utmost to keep Henry at her side, asking him numberless questions, and suddenly recollecting something which she wished to tell him, if he made a movement towards leaving her.

“Confound it.  How tight she sticks to a fellow,” thought he, “but I’ll get away from her yet.”

Just then Ida and Mary were announced.  Both Aunt Martha and Ida had taken great pains to have their young friend becomingly dressed, and she looked unusually well in the embroidered muslin skirt, satin waist, and blonde bertha which Aunt Martha had insisted upon her accepting as a present.  The rich silken braids of her luxuriant hair were confined at the back of her finely formed head with a golden arrow, which, with the exception of a plain band of gold on each wrist, was the only ornament she wore.  This was her first introduction to the gay world, but so keen was her perception of what was polite and proper, that none would ever have suspected it and yet there was about her something so fresh and unstudied, that she had hardly entered the room ere many were struck with her easy, unaffected manners, so different from the practised airs of the city belles.

Ella watched her narrowly, whispering aside to Henry how sorry she felt for poor Mary, she was so verdant, and really hoping she wouldn’t do any thing very awkward, for ’twould mortify her to death! “but, look,” she added, “and see how many people Ida is introducing her to.”