There was the slightest possible degree of condescension in Beulah's manner as she touched the tips of those awkward fingers, and politely returned the bow. Dr. Weasenby saw nothing but the greatest cordiality in her manner, and inquired where she was going to church.

"I am going with Mrs. Whately to church." The Doctor, taking this for an introduction to the lady, raised his hat straight up a quarter of a yard above his head without inclining it an inch, and then settled it so carefully as not to disturb a single hair. "Well, I will wait upon you, ladies," said he, just as Mrs. Whately was going to in

vite him.

"How long is it since you were in Baxter, Sir?" asked Beulah.

"Three weeks, precisely. I asked the Squire to write to you, but just then it was a special busy time, and he could n't. He's nicely, and so is the old woman," replied the Doctor.

"And my brothers, they are well, I suppose, or I should have heard of it," said Beulah.

66 They are both smart. Baxter is an amazing healthy place, and I have come to settle in Boston, where it's more sickly."

No sooner were they seated in church, than

A

Dr. Weasenby smoothed up his hair in front, and down behind, in his own peculiar manner. loud whispering and half-suppressed tittering was heard in the pew behind them. It was Harriet Ann and her constant companion, Miss Stiltaker. They were vastly amused with the specimen of a country beau before them, and kept their heads together, whispering under each other's bonnets, during the whole time they were in church, to the great annoyance of those who were near them.

Dr. Weasenby, on the contrary, was reverential in his manner, and Mrs. Whately was not in the least troubled because the stranger with her happened not to be quite as elegant in his appearance as her acquaintances generally were.

As soon as service was over, and Beulah had stepped out of the pew, she was seized rudely by Harriet Ann, who whispered in her ear, loud enough to startle those in their neighbourhood,

Why, Beulah Morris, who have you got with you? That poke-a-moonshine, I mean." Beulah was quite too much surprised to answer immediately, and the rude girl continued, "He is indubitably a Baxter man, I know him by the cut of his hair."

Beulah whispered, very low, "I am afraid he will hear you. He is a young physician, who has just established himself in Boston."

"Is it possible!" exclaimed Harriet Ann, whose opinion seemed to undergo a very sudden change. "I had n't an idea that he was a professional man."

By this time they were at the door, and, their way homeward being in different directions, they parted. Dr. Weasenby accompanied Mrs. Whately and Beulah, and when they reached home, Mrs. Whately very politely asked him to walk in. "Not now," said the Doctor, "but I shall try to call very soon."

"That is rather an awkward young man," remarked Mrs. Whately, when they had entered the house," but by no means so vulgar as those silly girls who sat giggling at him in church. I have often noticed them at concerts and lectures. Instead of listening themselves, they prevent others from hearing by their continual whispering; and now and then comes a derisive laugh from them, which proves they are amusing themselves by ridiculing every one. In the street, too, their rude impertinence is almost insulting. I have repeatedly heard the inquiry made, Who is that very

vulgar girl with the long light curls?' Beulah, dear, you must be civil to her, but she is so encroaching and obtrusive, that it is necessary to treat her with great coolness."

There was nothing in the circumstances or appearance of Harriet Ann Gunn that prevented her from becoming a lady. Every one must acknowledge that it was entirely her own fault that she could not be received into the society which she sought with bold pertinacity.

CHAPTER XXII.

A FRIEND IN AFFLICTION.

THE next time that Beulah visited Mrs. Fanshaw, she purchased on the way a beautiful bouquet to place upon her little table.

The invalid received the attention gratefully. "I love flowers, now," said she, "better than I ever did before in my life; they are indeed the 'poetry of earth,' as the stars are the poetry of heaven.' Every thing that speaks to me of the wisdom and goodness of the Creator now gives me unspeakable pleasure. My young friend, do you know how indifferent I was to all these things when I was in the country?

"I know you went out very little," replied Beulah.

"Uncover those ottomans, if you please," said she, pointing to two large seats covered with