about
with Clara among various shops, and now bore upon her person the
charming result of these journeys, in the shape of a garment, which
was rich in texture, and splendid in the making. And she really was a
handsome girl, only with a certain air of being dressed for the stage.
But Arnold, now more than suspicious, was not dazzled by the gorgeous
raiment, and only considered how his cousin could for a moment imagine
this person to be a lady, and how it would be best to break the news.

"Clara's cousin," she said, "I have forgotten your name; but how do
you do, again?"

And then they went in to dinner.

"You have learned, I suppose," said Arnold, "something about the
Deseret family by this time?"

"Oh, yes, I have heard all about the family-tree. I dare say I shall
get to know it by heart in time. But you don't expect me all at once,
to care much for it."

"Little Republican!" said Clara. "She actually does not feel a pride
in belonging to a good old family."

The girl made a little gesture.

"Your family can't do much for you, that I can see, except to make you
proud, and pretend not to see other women in the shop. That is what
the county ladies do."

"Why, my dear, what on earth do you know of the county ladies?"

Lotty blushed a little. She had made a mistake. But she quickly
recovered.

"I only know what I've read, cousin, about any kind of English ladies.
But that's enough, I'm sure. Stuck-up things!"

And again she observed, from Clara's pained expression, that she had
made another mistake.

If she showed a liking for stout at lunch, she manifested a positive
passion for champagne at dinner.

"I do like the English custom," she said, "of having two dinners in
the day."

"Ladies in America, I suppose," said Clara, "dine in the middle of the
day?"

"Always."

"But I have visited many families in New York and Boston who dined
late," said Arnold.

"Dare say," she replied carelessly. "I'm going to have some more of
that curry stuff, please. And don't ask any more questions, anybody,
till I've worried through with it. I'm a wolf at curry."

"She likes England, Arnold," said Clara, covering up this remark, so
to speak. "She likes the country, she says, very much."

"At all events," said the girl, "I like this house, which is
first-class--fine--proper. And the furniture, and pictures, and
all--tiptop. But I'm afraid it is going to be awful dull, except at
meals, and when the Boy is going." Her