"You put me in mind of the riddle, When is a door not a door? When Claudia. it's a jar." As this old witticism happened to be new to Claudia, she dimpled with smiles. 66 He wanted some cold meat," said she presently. "Cold meat!" echoed Miss Clairvaux indignantly. "I admire his impertinence !" "I told him there was none," said Claudia with complacence. "There, you did wrong, Claudia. There was plenty, but there was no need to invite him to it. You had no right to do so." 'He invited his self," said Claudia, "so what could I say, ma'am ?" "You could say that you were not at liberty, in your mistress's absence, to offer him any refreshment," said Miss Clairvaux with dignity. "So I will then, next time," said Clandia. "Which I hope will be long coming," said Miss Clairvaux. Whereat, they all smiled. After dinner, Miss Clairvaux established herself in her easy chair, and looked dreamily into the fire. Eleanor offered to read to her. "No, thank you, my dear, it is almost too dark for you to see, and besides, my attention would be divided. I cannot help dwelling on the Union. I think I shall write a letter to the Times, when the lamp is lighted—a letter in the style of S. G. O.” 66 "That will be excellent," said Eleanor, 'but, in the meanwhile, would it not be best to divert your mind a little from so painful a subject? I can read very well by fire-light." Reading by fire-light is very prejudicial to the eyes. Besides, I want to think of Mr. Horsefield's visit. What could he want?" "He wanted to see you." Yes, but what about? Did Mr. Foljambe send him, I wonder?" She relapsed into silence, till Eleanor ventured to say, “I suppose Mr. Foljambe is your lawyer ?” "Not my lawyer, though a lawyer," said Miss Clairvaux, rousing herself. "He is all for himself, and not at all for me. A selfish heart! and always was." "You see, Eleanor," resumed she presently, so suddenly as to make her start, "the posițion we are in, with regard to each other, is this: A Mr. Foljambe was attached, early in life, to my mother, who, however, preferred my father, and married him. I was their only child. My father was a clergyman; I have no recollection of him whatever, for he was accidentally drowned while I was yet a baby. Mr. Foljambe, I should tell you, had consoled himself directly after my mother refused him, by marrying even before she did; and his wife died in a year or so, leaving him a son. That son is the Jasper Foljambe who now troubles me. Thus, you see, Mr. Foljambe was left a widower about the same time my mother was left a widow; and as he had been very deeply attached to her, he in due time renewed his addresses to her. He was a very amiable, accomplished, high-principled man; and, as she had always esteemed him, though she had preferred my father, it is not surprising that he prevailed on her to accept him. I was so young at the time, that I really supposed him my father; and was only undeceived by a misjudging servant, who one day said something about your own papa.' I said, 'papa is my own papa!' to which she replied, ‘no, miss, he's only your step-papa―your own papa is dead.' I ran crying to my step-father, and said, 'papa, Mary says you are not my own papa!' He took me on his knee, and gently said, 'your own papa, my dear, is dead; but I love you quite as much as if you were really my little daughter.' His kindness won me, but I had received a great blow. The shock, however, soon subsided, and I may say we truly loved each other as father and daughter. "In course of time, children were born to him and my mother, and they had a numerous family. I have survived them all. I was very fond of my little brothers and sisters; but Jasper Foljambe was never like one of the family, though he sometimes spent his holidays with us. He gave himself grandiose airs, as if he were sprung of a better stock, which he really was not. My stepfather had been called to the bar; but he was a man of studious, elegant tastes; and, as he had threatenings of a heart-complaint, and was in easy circumstances, he soon gave up practice, and resided entirely in the country. He farmed his own land, and helped to educate his children, which was quite occupation enough for him; and though our home was secluded, we were never in the least dull. Sometimes I visited friends and relations; but though I enjoyed the change of scene and so |