"I live there now, when I am at home," Octavia replied. "The mines are
there; and father has built a house, and had the furniture brought on
from New York."

Miss Belinda tried not to shudder, but almost failed.

"Won't you take another muffin, my love?" she said, with a sigh. "Do take
another muffin."

"No, thank you," answered Octavia; and it must be confessed that she
looked a little bored, as she leaned back in her chair, and glanced down
at the train of her dress. It seemed to her that her simplest statement
or remark created a sensation.

Having at last risen from the tea-table, she wandered to the window, and
stood there, looking out at Miss Belinda's flower-garden. It was quite a
pretty flower-garden, and a good-sized one considering the dimensions of
the house. There were an oval grass-plot, divers gravel paths, heart and
diamond shaped beds aglow with brilliant annuals, a great many
rose-bushes, several laburnums and lilacs, and a trim hedge of holly
surrounding it.

"I think I should like to go out and walk around there," remarked
Octavia, smothering a little yawn behind her hand. "Suppose we go--if you
don't care."

"Certainly, my dear," assented Miss Belinda. "But perhaps," with a
delicately dubious glance at her attire, "you would like to make some
little alteration in your dress--to put something a little--dark over