peaker can add to all he
touches concerning man's life, and love, and destiny, something reached
down from the dominion of thought, beautiful and fresh enough to make
his hearers wonder at him, and experience that elation of heart which is
the universal tribute paid to all beautiful things, then they will feel
deeply perhaps; but the joy of beauty will elevate them, and the mind
will save the eyes from annoying tears.

Before her guests retired, Emily having lingered up-stairs with the
baby, Dorothea found herself for a few minutes alone with Justina, who
was very tired, but felt that her task was not quite finished. So, as
she took up her bonnet and advanced to the looking-glass to put it on,
she said, carelessly, "I wonder whether this colour will stand Italian
sunshine."

Dorothea's fair young face was at once full of interest. Justina saw
curiosity, too, but none was expressed; she only said, with the least
little touch of pique, "And you never told _me_ that you were wishing so
much to go away."

Justina turned, and from her superior height stooped to kiss Dorothea,
as if by way of apology, whereupon she added, "I had hoped, indeed, I
felt sure, that you liked this place and this neighbourhood."

"What are you alluding to, dear," said Justina, though Dorothea had
alluded to nothing.

But Dorothea remaining silent, Justina had to go on.

"I think (if _that_ is what you mean) that no one who cares for me could
wish me to undertake a very difficult task--such a very difficult task
as that, and one which perhaps I am not at all fit for."

On this Dorothea betrayed a certain embarrassment, rather a painful
blush tinged her soft cheek. "I would not have taken the liberty to hint
at such a thing," she answered.

"She would not have liked it," thought Justina, with not unnatural
surprise; for Dorothea had shown a fondness for her.

"But of course I know there has been an idea in the neighbourhood that
you----"

"That I what?" asked Justina.

"Why that you might--you might undertake it."

"Oh, nonsense, dear! nonsense, all talk," said Justina; "don't believe a
word of it." Her tone seemed to mean just the contrary, and Dorothea
looked doubtful.

"There have been some attentions, certainly," continued Justina, turning
before the glass as if to observe whether her scarf was folded to her
mind. "Of course every one must have observed that! But really, dear,
such a thing"--she put up her large steady hand, and