regular, though of a kind that advancing years might render sharp, while her dark eyes, very handsome eyes they were, had every beauty of shape, colour—all but sweetness.
The children soon made their appearance in the nursery, they said that their father's new mamma had a head-ache. Neither seemed inclined to talk about her, and Eda thought it most judicious to ask no questions. Soon after they came in, she observed that Ellen had in her hand the very flowers on whose selection so much pains had been bestowed.
"Why did you not give your mamma her pretty nosegay?" asked Eda.
"Oh, we did," replied Julia, "but she dropped it in the passage, and when we picked it up and gave it to her again, she said that she could not bear the perfume."
"We did not like it to be lost," added Ellen, "because the geranium was from our own mamma's tree."
"Some people cannot bear odours," said the
