better than ever.  There is nothing in her manner that indicates a consciousness of superior merit, but she is so truly kind, and her countenance wears so peaceful and heavenly an expression, that I can never weary of gazing at her, and in my sober moods, which occur once or twice in a twelvemonth, have some idea of following her example.  And now, Arthur,” Ella added playfully, “if Miss Wiltshire comes not up to your standard of female excellence, I should despair of ever finding one that did.”

Arthur was about to reply, but was interrupted by the announcement of a visitor.  Slightly annoyed, for he had become really interested in the conversation, and, resolving to slip away the first convenient opportunity, he turned to salute the lady, whose name he had not heard, when, Ella’s exclamation of surprise and pleasure fell on his ear.

“Why, Agnes, have you came at last?  I almost thought I was never to see you again.  I called twice, but you were out.”

“Yes, I was very sorry, but a particular engagement called me from home.”

“Arthur, have you forgotten your old friend, Miss Wiltshire?” inquired Ella of her brother, who was waiting an opportunity to address her.

“It would be a difficult task to do that,” was the reply, while the cordial clasp of the hand and kindly tone, told how pleasant was that meeting to one of the party at least.  “You should rather have inquired if Miss Wiltshire had forgotten me, which is far more probable.”

“I never forget my friends,” said Agnes, with a slight emphasis on the word friends.

“And to be numbered among Miss Wiltshire’s friends, I consider no ordinary privilege,” was Arthur’s reply, as he insisted on her occupying an easy chair by the blazing fire, which the clear but chilly air of autumn rendered indispensable to comfort.

“I am afraid you have learned the art of flattery in your travels, Mr. Bernard.”

“Flattery!” exclaimed Ella, drawing up a chair close to her friend, and smiling at her brother, who was seated opposite; “I only wish you had heard him, Agnes, a little while ago, in what terms he spoke of our sex, for if you had, you would agree with me, that the title of woman-hater would be far more appropriate than flatterer.”

“Ella, Ella, that is hardly fair,” said Arthur, while his cheek became slightly flushed.

“But what did he say about us, Ella?” Agnes inquired, smiling half mischievously at his evident embarrassment.

“Say, all sorts of things; he declared that the great majority of us care for little else but pleasure; that the idea of exerting our influence for good is one that we seldom ever entertain, and he wound up his exceedingly edifying lecture by a dismal story of a lady, whose persuasions induced a friend of his to break a promise which he had made to abstain from intoxicating liquors, and was, thereby, led to an untimely death.”