e humility of her present position; or if
conscious, it was only to taste a charm in its lowliness. It did not
revolt her pride that the group to whom she voluntarily officiated as
handmaid should include her cousin's tutor. It did not scare her that
while she handed the bread and milk to the rest, she had to offer it to
him also; and Moore took his portion from her hand as calmly as if he
had been her equal.

"You are overheated now," he said, when she had retained the fork for
some time; "let me relieve you."

And he took it from her with a sort of quiet authority, to which she
submitted passively, neither resisting him nor thanking him.

"I should like to see your pictures, Louis," said Caroline, when the
sumptuous luncheon was discussed.--"Would not you, Mr. Hall?"

"To please you, I should; but, for my own part, I have cut him as an
artist. I had enough of him in that capacity in Cumberland and
Westmoreland. Many a wetting we got amongst the mountains because he
would persist in sitting on a camp-stool, catching effects of
rain-clouds, gathering mists, fitful sunbeams, and what not."

"Here is the portfolio," said Henry, bringing it in one hand and leaning
on his crutch with the other.

Louis took it, but he still sat as if he wanted another to speak. It
seemed as if he would not open it unless the proud Shirley deigned to
show herself interested in the exhibition.

"He makes us wait to whet our curiosity," she said.

"You understand opening it," observed Louis, giving her the key. "You
spoiled the lock for me once; try now."

He held it. She opened it, and, monopolizing the contents, had the first
view of every sketch herself. She enjoyed the treat--if treat it
were--in silence, without a single comment. Moore stood behind her chair
and looked over her shoulder, and when she had done and the others were
still gazing, he left his post and paced through the room.

A carriage was heard in the lane--the gate-bell rang. Shirley started.

"There are callers," she said, "and I shall be summoned to the room. A
pretty figure--as they say--I am to receive company. I and Henry have
been in the garden gathering fruit half the morning. Oh for rest under
my own vine and my own fig-tree! Happy is the slave-wife of the Indian
chief, in that she has no drawing-room duty to perform, but can sit at
ease weaving mats, and stringing beads, and peacefully flattening her
pickaninny's head in an unmolested corner of her wigwa