of his heart rushed to protect her.

But it is a terrible truth, and one that it will not hurt any of us to
bear in mind, that our judgments of our friends are involuntary.

We may long with all our hearts to confide; we may be fascinated,
entangled, and wish to be blinded; but blind we cannot be. The friend
that has lied to us once, we may long to believe; but we cannot. Nay,
more; it is the worse for us, if, in our desire to hold the dear
deceiver in our hearts, we begin to chip and hammer on the great
foundations of right and honor, and to say within ourselves, "After
all, why be so particular?" Then, when we have searched about for all
the reasons and apologies and extenuations for wrong-doing, are we
sure that in our human weakness we shall not be pulling down the
moral barriers in ourselves? The habit of excusing evil, and finding
apologies, and wishing to stand with one who stands on a lower moral
plane, is not a wholesome one for the soul.

As fate would have it, the very next day after this little scene,
who should walk into the parlor where Lillie, John, and Grace were
sitting, but that terror of American democracy, the census-taker.
Armed with the whole power of the republic, this official steps with
elegant ease into the most sacred privacies of the family. Flutterings
and denials are in vain. Bridget and Katy and Anne, no less than
Seraphina and Isabella, must give up the critical secrets of their
lives.

John took the paper into the kitchen. Honest old Bridget gave in her
age with effrontery as "twinty-five." Anne giggled and flounced, and
declared on her word she didn't know,--they could put it down as they
liked. "But, Anne, you _must_ tell, or you may be sent to jail, you
know."

Anne giggled still harder, and tossed her head: "Then it's to jail
I'll have to go; for I don't know."

"Dear me," said Lillie, with an air of edifying candor, "what a fuss
they make! Set down my age 'twenty-seven,' John," she added.

Grace started, and looked at John; he met her eye, and blushed to the
roots of his hair.

"Why, what's the matter?" said Lillie, "are you embarrassed at telling
your age?"

"Oh, nothing!" said John, writing down the numbers hastily; and then,
finding a sudden occasion to give directions in the garden, he darted
out. "It's so silly to be ashamed of our age!" said Lillie, as the
census-taker withdrew.

"Of course," said Grace; and she had the humanity never to allude to
the subject wit