bristling with wheat-ears. Beside her sat a gentleman, rapt in a
newspaper, of course, for to an American man life is a burden till
the daily news have been absorbed. Mrs. Saltonstall's brother was
the possessor of a handsome eye without softness, thin lips without
benevolence, but plenty of will; a face and figure which some
thirty-five years of ease and pleasure had done their best to polish
and spoil, and a costume without flaw, from his aristocratic boots
to the summer hat on his head.

The little boy more checkered and the little girl more operatic than
before, sat on stools eating bonbons, while a French maid and the
African footman hovered in the background.

MRS. SALTONSTALL AND FAMILY.

Feeling very much like a meek gray moth among a flock of
butterflies, Christie modestly presented herself.

"Good morning," said Madame with a nod, which, slight as it was,
caused a great commotion among the poppies and the wheat; "I began
to be anxious about you. Miss Devon, my brother, Mr. Fletcher."

The gentleman bowed, and as Christie sat down he got up, saying, as
he sauntered away with a bored expression:

"Will you have the paper, Charlotte? There's nothing in it."

As Mrs. Saltonstall seemed going to sleep and she felt delicate
about addressing the irritable infants in public, Christie amused
herself by watching Mr. Fletcher as he roamed listlessly about, and