the table to make some
selections for herself.

"What had we best do, Ned?" whispered Julia.

"Why do you ask me, Julia? you know as well as I. I should like to have
something to show that I had been in Canada."

"So should I excessively--but then"--

"But what, Julia? I am sure mama says it shall make no difference to
Mrs. Barton."

"No, that is true--it will make no difference to her; but it will make a
great difference to us."

The last member of Julia's sentence was quite lost on Edward, for he had
abruptly returned to the table, and to the examination of the coveted
purse. Julia stood for one half instant wavering, and then walked to a
window, and kept her eye steadily fixed on the garden it overlooked.
Mrs. Sackville ventured one glance at her children. 'Ah,' thought she,
'Julia, you will prove faithful, but Ned I fear for you; 'he who
deliberates is lost,'' Her mind was more intent on her children than on
the little traffic she was making, and when she had set aside articles
to a considerable amount, and was about to pay for them, the nun said,
"I think, madam, you might make a better selection--allow me to exchange
this basket for the awkward one you have there. I am a little vain of
this, for I made it myself, and I should have begged your daughter to
accept it when I saw her admiring it, but these articles are devoted to
a specific object, and I have no control over them. I should, however,
be particularly gratified if you would purchase this for Miss Julia,
instead of that you have taken."

"You are very good," replied Mrs. Sackville, "but I have permitted my
daughter to select for herself. Julia, do you hear what this lady says?"

"Yes, mama."

"Will you look at the basket, my love?"

"No, I thank you, mama."

This last reply was uttered in a faltering voice, and caught Edward's
attention. He had just taken out his pocket-book to pay for the purse.
He looked towards Julia, and then to his mother. Mrs. Sackville's eyes
were fixed on Julia with an expression of love and approbation which
flashed to Edward's heart; he dropped the purse, put up his pocket-book,
and going up to his sister, whispered a proposal that they should return
to the inn, without waiting for their mother to finish her business.

They then took a respectful, though rather a hurried leave of the kind
sister, impatient to be out of sight of a temptation, which no one will
deride as inconsiderable, when it is remembered that Edw