Julia; and her tone had a
touch of sadness in it, in spite of her attempt to smile. "It would not
be easy to find two people whom the world can live without at so little
cost. There is something in that, Nelly; though I 'm not sure that it is
all gain."

"Well, you have your recompense, Julia," said the other, affectionately;
"for there is a little 'world' here could not exist without you."

"Two hares, and something like a black cock--they call it a caper,
here," cried Augustus, from beneath the window. "Come down, and let us
have breakfast on the terrace. By the way, I have just got a letter in
Cutbill's hand. It has been a fortnight in coming, but I only glanced at
the date of it."

As they gathered around the breakfast-table they were far more eager to
learn what had been done in the garden, and what progress was being made
with the fish-pond, than to hear Mr. Cutbill's news; and his letter lay
open till nigh the end of the meal, on the table, before any one thought
of it.

"Who wants to read Cutbill?" said Augustus, indolently.

"Not I, Gusty, if he writes as he talks."

"Do you know, I thought him very pleasant?" said L'Estrange. "He told me
so much that I had never heard of, and made such acute remarks on life
and people."

"Poor dear George was so flattered by Mr. Cutbill's praise of his boiled
mutton, that he took quite a liking to the man; and when he declared
that some poor little wine we gave him had a flavor of 'muscat' about
it, like old Moselle, I really believe he might have borrowed money of
us if he had wanted, and if we had had any."

"I wish you would read him aloud, Julia," said Augustus.

"With all my heart," said she, turning over the letter to see its
length. "It does seem a long document, but it is a marvel of clear
writing. Now for it. 'Naples, Hotel Victoria. My dear Bramleigh.' Of
course you are his dear Bramleigh? Lucky, after all, that it's not dear
Gusty."

"That's exactly what makes everything about that man intolerable to
_me_," said Nelly. "The degree of intimacy between people is not to be
measured by the inferior."

"I will have no discussions, no interruptions," said Julia. "If there
are to be comments, they must be made by _me_."

"That's tyranny, I think," cried Nelly.

"I call it more than arrogance," said Augustus.

"My dear Bramleigh," continued Julia, reading aloud, "I followed the old
Viscount down here, not in the best of tempers, I assure you; and though
n