ind his wife's face
still hidden in the cushions, her hair standing out in a thousand
dishevelled threads. It was not a pleasant picture. Yet it _was_ a
pleasant picture that met him at the door. Juliet was all smiles, blooms
and roses. There was joy in her eyes, and gladness in her tones. Never
had she looked quite so beautiful to John Temple--even when first her
beauty won him. It was such a surprise! What wonder he committed the
folly--but no matter. Juliet learned a lesson to her advantage. Tears
and upbraidings had failed to move him. A happy face, smiles, charming
toilettes, joy at his coming had brought out those expressions which
demands had failed to elicit.

Juliet was not satisfied yet. She had to tell him how shocked she had
been at the mere thought of losing him. John opened his eyes, and felt
considerably hurt as she detailed the visit to her mother, and that
mother's proposition for a divorce. For Juliet touched very lightly upon
her own fault of having made outrageous complaints against him.
Nevertheless he felt convinced of the facts, knowing Juliet had gone
there with unkindness in her heart. By his repeated questionings she
admitted all, but he fully forgave her, considering the good results of
her thoughtless action.

On the day following this domestic breeze and subsequent calm, Philip
St. Leger had arrived from the Orient. Two months previously they had
been apprised of his coming. A family conclave had been held, at which
it had been decided that to Juliet should Philip's child be consigned;
for reasons already explained by Philip to Duncan Lisle.

Juliet had now been married six months. She was twenty-five years of
age; old enough to have exhibited more sense and discretion than we have
seen her to do. She was, however, one of those who will be childish as
long as they live. Her faults and delinquencies were due more to
improper training than to natural defects. With such characters is hope
of reformation.

Juliet was delighted with the child, which was just commencing to walk,
and could say a few words. She had the dark eyes and hair, and creamy
complexion of the St. Legers.

Juliet had been, even among girls, distinguished for her love of dolls.
To make dresses and hats for her troop of a dozen had formed one of the
chief pleasures of her childhood, continued far up into youth.

In Althea she saw the quintessence of all dolls. For her she could
embroider, ruffle, and tuck; search the cit