confused medley of "Mrs.
Wishart"--"Miss Lothrop"--"staying with her"--"poor cousin"--"kind to
her of course."

Mr. Dillwyn's countenance changed.

"Mrs. Wishart!" he echoed. "Mrs. Wishart is irreproachable."

"Certainly, but that does not put a penny in Miss Lothrop's pocket, nor
give her position, nor knowledge of the world."

"What do you mean by knowledge of the world?" Mr. Dillwyn inquired with
slow words.

"Why! you know. Just the sort of thing that makes the difference
between the raw and the manufactured article," Miss Julia answered,
laughing. She was comfortably conscious of being thoroughly
"manufactured" herself. No crude ignorances or deficiencies
there.--"The sort of thing that makes a person at home and _au fait_
everywhere, and in all companies, and shuts out awkwardnesses and
inelegancies.

"_Does_ it shut them out?"

"Why, of course! How can you ask? What else will shut them out? All
that makes the difference between a woman of the world and a milkmaid."

"This little girl, I understand, then, is awkward and inelegant?"

"She is nothing of the kind!" Tom burst out. "Ridiculous!" But Dillwyn
waited for Miss Julia's answer.

"I cannot call her just _awkward_," said Mrs. Caruthers.

"N-o," said Julia, "perhaps not. She has been living with Mrs. Wishart,
you know, and has got accustomed to a certain set of things. She does
not strike you unpleasantly in society, seated at a lunch table, for
instance; but of course all beyond the lunch table is like London to a
Laplander."

Tom flung himself out of the room.

"And that is what you are going to Florida for?" pursued Dillwyn.

"You have guessed it! Yes, indeed. Do you know, there seems to be
nothing else to do. Tom is in actual danger. I know he goes very often
to Mrs. Wishart's; and you know Tom is impressible; and before we know
it he might do something he would be sorry for. The only thing is to
get him away."

"I think I will go to Mrs. Wishart's too," said Philip. "Do you think
there would be danger?"

"I don't know!" said Miss Julia, arching her brows. "I never can
comprehend why the men take such furies of fancies for this girl or for
that. To me they do not seem so different. I believe this girl takes
just because she is not like the rest of what one sees every day."

"That might be a recommendation. Did it never strike you, Miss Julia,
that there is a certain degree of sameness in our world? Not in nature,
for there the variety