erself and Miss Arthur, there now existed an
appearance of great cordiality and friendliness. While she treated
Percy with utmost politeness and hospitality, the remembrance of ten
years ago acted as an effectual bar to anything like coquetry, where
he was concerned.

Scarcely had Cora settled herself comfortably upon her divan, when the
door opened noiselessly, and Miss Arthur sailed in, diffusing through
the room the odor of Patchouli as she came. She was, as usual, a
marvel of beflounced silk, false curls, rouge, and pearl powder. Her
face beamed upon Cora in friendliness as she approached her, saying,
with much effusion:

"Oh, you poor child, how delightful to see you once more among us, and
looking like yourself."

Lucian arose and gallantly wheeled forward a large easy chair, saying:
"And how charming you look, Miss Ellen; you make poor Cora appear
quite shabby by contrast."

Cora cast a rather ungrateful glance at the gentleman, and the
spinster simpered, "Oh, you horrid man! Brothers are so ungrateful!"

At this juncture, as Cora had predicted, Mr. Percy presented himself,
and the four fell into attitudes, in front of the grate--Percy leaning
on the back of Miss Arthur's chair, and Cora and Davlin in their
former places.

"_Merci_," said Miss Arthur, pretending to stifle a yawn, "why can't
we all be out in this keen air and sunshine? If there were but snow on
the ground!"

"Snow!" cried Cora, annoyed out of her usual assumption of feebleness;
"don't mention it, if you don't want me to die. We won't have snow, if
you please, until I can drive in a cutter."

Percy laughed softly; his laugh was always disagreeable to Cora, as
having an undercurrent of meaning intended for her alone. And Davlin
said:

"Hear and heed, all ye gods of the wind and weather."

"Well, laugh," said Cora, half laughing herself, "but I am beginning
to feel ambitious. Do let's try to set something afoot to make us feel
as if we were alive, and glad that we were."

"Agreed, Cora," cried Miss Arthur, gushingly, "only tell us what it
shall be."

"Suggest, suggest;" this from Davlin.

The spinster glanced up coquettishly, "Edward, you suggest."

Percy caressed his blonde whiskers thoughtfully, and letting his eyes
rest carelessly on Cora, said, meaningly: "Let's poison each other!"

"Or commit suicide!" retorted Cora, coolly.

"Let's be more sensible," said Davlin. "Let's organize a matrimonial
society, get up a wedding, and