hey are so much alike--I should scarcely know them apart. I liked him
the best who most resembled the dear old Colonel."

"Old! Miss Juliet. I hope you don't mean to call Colonel Hurdlestone an
old man! You will be calling me old next."

"And not far from the truth if she did," muttered the old sailor. "That
was the Colonel's nephew, Julee, Mr. Anthony Hurdlestone."

"The son of that horrible old miser? I saw him once and took him for a
beggar. Is it possible that that elegant young man can be his son?"

"I think the case somewhat doubtful," observed Miss Dorothy. "I wonder
that Colonel Hurdlestone has the effrontery to introduce that young man
as his nephew. Nature herself contradicts the assertion."

"Dolly, don't be censorious. I thought the Colonel was a great friend of
yours."

"He was; but I am not blind," said Miss Dorothy, with dignity. "I have
altered my mind with regard to that gentleman, and would not become his
wife if he were to ask me on his bended knees."

"I wish he would pop the question," said the Captain. "I'd bet my life
on't that he would not have to ask twice!"

"Sir," replied the lady, casting upon her brother a withering glance, "I
never mean to marry a widower--an uncle--who brings with him nephews so
like himself." Miss Dorothy swept from the room, leaving her brother
convulsed with laughter.

"Miss Whitmore is not so handsome as I expected to find her, after the
fuss that George Braconberry made about her the other night at Wymar's,"
said Godfrey, suddenly pulling up his horse, as they rode home, and
addressing his cousin. "Her figure is delightful, symmetry itself; but
her face, she has scarcely one good feature in it. There is nothing gay
or joyous in her expression. There is an indescribable sadness about
those blue eyes which makes one feel grave in a moment. I wanted to pay
her a few compliments by way of ingratiating myself into her good
graces; but, by Jove! I could not look her in the face and do it. A man
must have more confidence than I possess to attempt to deceive her. I
never felt afraid of a woman before."

"I am glad to hear you say so," returned Anthony. "To me she is
beautiful, exceedingly beautiful. I would not exchange that noble
expression of hers for the most faultless features and blooming
complexion in the world. The dignity of her countenance is the mirror in
which I see reflected the beauty of the soul; as the stars picture on
the face of the placid stream t