peculiarly attractive in the countenance and manner of Bertha,
or Birdie, as she was called by all the family. She was indeed a child
formed to attract the admiration and love of all who saw her. Her
complexion would have appeared almost too pale but for the rose-tint on
either cheek; she had beautiful eyes of a dark blue, and her soft brown
hair fell in luxuriant curls upon her shoulders. She came forward as her
mother called her name and placed her hand in mine. I thought at the
time that I had never before seen so lovely and engaging a child. The
little boy, Lewis, was a manly looking little fellow for his age,
although I feared, from his countenance that he might possess a temper
and a will not easy to be controlled. He somewhat resembled his sister
Georgania, as his complexion and eyes were dark; but he had a more
pleasing expression of countenance. When Mrs. Leighton had dismissed the
children from the room, she turned to me, remarking that probably I
would like to retire for a time to my own room, she called one of the
servants and requested her to show me to my apartment. As I was leaving
the parlor she informed me that tea would be ready at half-past six
o'clock. The room appropriated to my use was very pleasant, and was also
tastefully furnished. At the tea-table I was introduced to Mr. Leighton,
whom I had not before seen. I was very much pleased by his manner, which
had none of that patronizing condescension with which the rich so often
address the poor. I found him a gentleman, in the truest sense of the
word.

After tea, Mr. Leighton requested me to favor them with some music.
Accordingly I seated myself at the piano and played several pieces, with
which he seemed much pleased. He remarked that they were quite at a loss
for music since their eldest daughter, Laura, left home for school, as
their two youngest daughters had but recently commenced taking lessons.
As I rose from the piano, Mrs. Leighton enquired if I sang. I replied
that I sometimes sang to oblige my friends. She asked if I would favor
them with a song. Resuming my seat, I began the first song which
occurred to my mind. It chanced to be that much-admired song, by Foster,
called "Willie, we have missed you." When I concluded I was surprised to
find Mrs. Leighton in tears. She informed me, by way of apology, that
their eldest son's name was Willie, and that he had been absent for some
months in England, on account of the death of a wealthy uncle