inroads.

When Mrs. Meeker came in, she demanded, in an irritated tone, 'What do
you want, Harriet?'

'I wish very much, mamma, you would send and ask Uncle Frank if he will
not come and see me to-day.'

'I think it very improper, Harriet, for you to be sending for your uncle
when you are under Dr. Alsop's charge.'

'But, mamma, Uncle Frank does not prescribe for me. I do not send for
him as my physician.'

'It looks very odd, though,' continued Mrs. Meeker, with increased
irritation. 'I am sure Dr. Alsop would not like it if he knew it.'

'Dr. Alsop met Uncle Frank here one day, and they appeared to be
excellent friends. I am sure there can be no misunderstanding on his
part, and papa says he is quite willing.'

'Do as you like, child,' replied Mrs. Meeker. Then turning to the nurse
she said, 'You may ring, and send Thomas with a message from Miss
Meeker, if she desires.'

'Thank you, dear mamma. If you will come to me, I will give you a kiss.'

The door closed before the sentence was finished, and Mrs. Meeker
descends the staircase, passes through the hall, and steps into the open
air.

Alas, what is revealed to you! Marks, grim and ghastly marks of those
years of wear and tear, which the sunlight, that remorseless trier of
woman's looks, makes quite apparent. What evidence of irritability, of
discontent, and general disappointment and disgust with everything and
all things, is revealed in those deep-cut lines and angles which in the
light of day become painfully visible under the delicate layers of Baume
d'Osman, rouge, and pearl powder!

Mrs. Meeker adjusts her veil so as to hang gracefully down to the tip of
her nose, and enters her carriage.

I had nearly forgotten to point out a very genteel-looking young man in
black, who wears a distressingly long frock coat and a white neckcloth,
who escorts Mrs. Meeker to her carriage, and enters it after her.

Arabella has not lost her _penchant_ for young clergymen, nor young
clergymen for her.

Leaving Mrs. Meeker to her excursion, we go into the parlors.

On one of the sofas is a young fair girl, no more than eighteen years
old. Her complexion, eyes, and general cast of features, exhibit a
striking likeness to her father. She is of medium height, and her form
is fine and well rounded. Add to these the adornments and appliances of
dress, and you have before you a very beautiful young woman.

Seated on the same sofa, and in very close proximity, is a pe