“Ah, Mr. Stanley,” and ’Lina half arose from her chair, thus intimating that he was to join them.  “Miss Johnson, Mr. Stanley,” and ’Lina watched them closely.

“You have positively been smitten by Miss Johnson’s pretty face,” said ’Lina, laughing a little spitefully, as they parted at the piazza, Irving to go after his accustomed glasses of water, and ’Lina to seek out Dr. Richards in the parlor.  “Yes, I know you are smitten, and inasmuch as we are cousins, I shall expect to see you at Spring Bank some day not far in the future.”

“It is quite probable you will,” was Irving’s reply, as he walked away, his head and heart full of Alice Johnson.

Meantime “Mrs. Worthington, daughter and servant,” had entered the still crowded parlors, where Mrs. Richards sat fanning herself industriously, and watching her John with motherly interest as he sauntered from one group of ladies to another, wondering what made Saratoga so dull, and where Miss Worthington had gone.  It is not to be supposed that Dr. Richards cared a fig for Miss Worthington as Miss Worthington.  It was simply her immense figure he admired, and as, during the evening he had heard on good authority that said figure was made up mostly of cotton growing on some Southern field, the exact locality of which his informant did not know, he had decided that, of course, Miss ’Lina’s fortune was over-estimated.  Such things always were, but still she must be wealthy.  He had no doubt of that, and he might as well devote himself to her as to wait for some one else.  Accordingly the moment he spied her in the crowd he joined her, asking if they should not take a little turn up and down the piazza.”

“Wait till I ask mamma’s permission to stay up a little longer.  She always insists upon my keeping such early hours,” was ’Lina’s very filial and childlike reply, as she walked up to mamma, not to ask permission, but to whisper rather peremptorily, “Dr. Richards wishes me to walk with him, and as you are tired, you may as well go to bed!”

Meantime the doctor and ’Lina were walking up and down the long piazza, chatting gayly, and attracting much attention from ’Lina’s loud manner of talking and laughing.

“By the way, I’ve called on Miss Johnson, at the Columbian,” she said.  “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Ra-ather pretty, some would think,” and the doctor had an uncomfortable consciousness of the refusal in his vest pocket.

If Alice had told.  But no, he knew her better than that.  He could trust her on that score, and so the dastardly coward affected to sneer at what he called her primness, charging ’Lina to be careful what she did, if she did not want a lecture, and asking if there were any ragged children in Kentucky, as she would not be happy unless she was running a Sunday school!

“She can teach the negroes!  Capital!” and ’Lina laughed so loudly that Mrs. Richards joined them, laughing, too, at what she did not know, only—­Miss Worthington had such spirits; it did one good; and she wished Anna was there to be enlivened.