Family Pride

"Only a year," Katy said. "I was as long as that in Canandaigua; but this past year is different. I have seen so much, and lived so much, that I feel ten years older than I did last spring, when you and Helen made my wedding dress. Darling Helen! When did you see her last?"

"I was there five weeks ago," Marian replied. "I saw them all, and told them I was coming to New York."

"Do they miss me any? Do they talk of me? Do they wish me back again?" Katy asked, and Marian replied: "They talked of little else--that is, your own family. Dr. Morris, I think, did not mention your name. He has grown very silent and reserved," and Marian's eyes were fixed inquiringly upon Katy, as if to ascertain how much she knew of the cause for Morris' reserve.

But Katy had no suspicion, and only replied: "Perhaps he is vexed that I do not write to him oftener, but I can't. I think of him a great deal, and sometimes have so wished I could sit in his public library, and forget that there are such things as dinner parties, where you are in constant terror lest you should do something wrong--evening parties, where your dress and style are criticised--receptions or calls, and all the things which make me so confused. Morris could always quiet me. It rested me just to hear him talk, and I respect him more than any living man, except, of course, Wilford; but when I try to write, something comes in between me and what I wish to say, for I want to convince him that I am not as frivolous as I fear he thinks I am. I have not forgotten the Sunday school, nor the church service, which I so loved to hear, especially when Morris read it, as he did in Mr. Browning's absence; but in the city it is so hard to be good, particularly when one is not, you know--that is, good like you and Helen and Morris--and the service and music seem all for show, and I feel so hateful when I see Juno and Wilford's mother making believe, and putting their heads down on velvet cushions, knowing as I do that they both are thinking either of their own bonnets or those just in front."

"Are you not a little uncharitable?" Marian asked, laughing in spite of herself at the picture Katy drew of fashion trying to imitate religion in its humility.

"Perhaps so," Katy answered. "I grow bad from looking behind the scenes, and the worst is that I do not care. But tell me, do you think Morris likes me less than formerly?"