ght of their grandeur gone.

"Fountains, statues, seats under shade trees, every luxury to be got out
of a garden! What Sybarites the Holy Fathers must have been!"

"Truly so," assents Helen. "They seem to have made themselves quite
comfortable; and whatever their morals, it must be admitted they
displayed good taste in landscape gardening, with an eye on good living
as well. They must have been very fond of fruit, and a variety of it--
judging by the many sorts of trees they've planted."

"So much the better for us," gleefully replies Jessie. "We shall have
the benefit of their industry, when the fruit season comes round. Won't
it be a grand thing when we get the walks gravelled, these statues
restored, and that fountain once more in full play. Luis has promised
me it shall be done, soon as the cotton crop is in. Oh! it will be a
Paradise of a place!"

"I like it better as it is."

"You do. Why?"

"Ah! that _you_ cannot understand. You do not know--I hope never will--
what it is to live only in the past. This place has had a past, like
myself, once smiling; and now like me all desolation."

"O sister! do not speak so. It pains me--indeed it does. Besides your
words only go half-way. As you say, it's had a smiling past, and's
going to have a smiling future. And so will you sis. I'm determined to
have it all laid out anew, in as good style as it ever was--better.
Luis shall do it--must, _when he marries, me_--if not before."

To the pretty bit of bantering Helen's only answer is a sigh, with a
sadder expression, as from some fresh pang shooting through her heart.
It is even this; for, once again, she cannot help contrasting her own
poor position with the proud one attained by her sister. She knows that
Dupre is in reality master of all around, as Jessie will be mistress,
she herself little better than their dependant. No wonder the thought
should cause her humiliation, or that, with a spirit imperious as her's,
she should feel it acutely. Still, in her crushed heart there is no
envy at her sister's good fortune. Could Charles Clancy come to life
again, now she knows him true--were he but there to share with her the
humblest hut in Texas, all the splendours, all the grandeurs of earth,
could not add to that happiness, nor give one emotion more.

After her enthusiastic outburst, to which there has been no rejoinder,
Jessie continues on toward the bottom of the garden, giving way to
pleasant fan