Family Pride

Mark Ray was there, too, and I saw him smile comically when Katy met the people with that bow she was making at the time he came so suddenly upon us. Mark is a good fellow, and I really think we have him to thank in a measure for Katy's successful _début_. He was the first to take her from Wilford, walking with her up and down the hall by way of reassuring her, and once as they passed me I heard her say: "I feel so timid here--so much afraid of doing something wrong--something countrified."

"Never mind," he answered. "Act yourself just as you would were you at home in Silverton, where you are known. That is far better than affecting a manner not natural to you."

After that Katy brightened wonderfully. The stiffness which at first was perceptible passed off, and she was Katy Lennox, queening it over all the city belles, who, because she was married, would not be jealous--drawing after her a host of gentlemen, and between the sets holding a miniature court at one end of the room, where the more desirable of the guests crowded around; flattering her until her little head ought to have been turned if it was not. To do her justice, she bore her honors well, and when we were in the carriage, and father complimented her upon her success, she only said: "If I pleased you all I am glad."

So many calls as we had the next day, and so many invitations as there are now on our table for Mrs. Wilford Cameron, while our opera box between the scenes is packed with beaus, until one would suppose Wilford might be jealous; but Katy takes it all so quietly and modestly, seeming only gratified for his sake, that I really believe he enjoys it more than she does. At all events, he persists in her going, even when she would rather stay at home, so if she is spoiled, the fault will rest with him.

February--th.--Poor Katy. Dissipation is beginning to wear upon her, for she is not accustomed to our late hours, and sometimes falls asleep while Esther is dressing her. But go she must, for Wilford wills it so, and she is but an automaton to do his bidding.

Why can't mother let her alone, when everybody seems so satisfied with her? Somehow, she does not believe that people are as delighted as they pretend, and so she keeps training and tormenting her until I do not wonder that Katy sometimes hates to go out, lest she shall unconsciously be guilty of an impropriety. I pitied her last night, when, after she was ready for the opera, she came into my room, where I was indulging in the luxury of a loose dressing gown, with my feet on the sofa. Latterly she has taken to me, and now sitting down before the fire into which her blue eyes looked with a steady stare, she said: "I wish I might stay here with you to-night. I have heard this opera before, and it will be so tiresome. I get so sleepy while they are singing, for I never care to watch the acting. I did at first, when it was new, but now it seems insipid to see them make-believe, while the theatre is worse yet," and she gave a weary yawn.