"P.S. I should like to know whether Antonio has any
scars in his face, and what battles he was in. Only
think, my dear, poor Charles Weston was frightened
by a clap of thunder--but Charles has an excellent
heart."

This letter was written and read, sealed and kissed,
when Miss Emmerson tapped gently at the door of
her niece and begged admission. Julia flew to open
it, and received her aunt with the guileless pleasure
her presence ever gave her. A few words of
introductory matter were exchanged, when, being
both seated at their needles again, Miss Emmerson
asked--

"To whom have you been writing, my love?"

"To my Anna."

"Do you recollect, my child, that in writing to Miss
Miller, you are writing to one out of your own
family, and whose interests are different from
yours?"

"I do not understand you, aunt," cried Julia in
surprise.

"I mean that you should be guarded in your
correspondence--tell no secrets out"--