for people exaggerate, and never make any allowances; they don't see that he is a genius." "A genius!" repeated Hubert, while his eyes kindled with admiration. "Look at his verses in the Annual look at-" : "Oh, they are all very beautiful, I dare say; but I can't understand them, nor can mamma says-" either; and papa says "It is the fate of genius to be misunderstood," interrupted Hubert, impatiently: "but still, I am not defending his moral qualities. There he is very, very wrong, and I am truly glad you do not like him, Charlotte; how unhappy should I be if I thought you could ever love him." “I wonder how Mary will like Frederick : how strange that they should meet; and he is coming to-morrow, too. And this is another of his amiable, unselfish qualities," continued Charlotte, with asperity: "he only comes when we are rich; he never comes to help or cheer us when we are poor." "He is very wise there," said Hubert, smiling: "he would only add to the misery of it all. What would be the use of his coming when we have not enough to eat, and nobody but dear old Jodkins to do anything for us? So far he is right. Now, go, dear Charlotte, for though you make this old room look very bright and cheerful, I cannot afford any time to amuse myself." And with a half sigh Hubert bent again over his studies, and began to write those small crabbed-looking Greek characters, which Charlotte muttered to herself were quite spoiling his hand-writing, as she half-danced, and half-glided out of the room. CHAPTER XXI. THE COUSINS. THE following day Charlotte Mandeville was in a fever of excitement. She ran continually to and fro, and could not help interrupting her brother several times to show him the bouquets and other little attentions she was preparing for cousin Mary's room, and to ask when he thought their cousin and Mr. Derwent would arrive. Lucy was also in a state of agitation: she had not seen Augustus for some time, not since the comparative prosperity he said they were now certain always to enjoy. It was almost dark when a fly drove up to the garden gate. They had all been watching at the north window of the drawing-room, which looked over the front garden into the street. When they saw the carriage stop, Lucy and her daughter ran into the hall, and down the steps, followed by Hubert, who was anxious to see cousin Mary, though his shyness kept him rather in the background. Lucy rushed into her husband's arms, and forgot, for a moment, everything, in the bliss of meeting him, as she fondly hoped, to part no more. Then, as if half-ashamed of not having noticed her orphan niece first, she endeavoured to atone for it by the warmth of her welcome, and the tenderness of her caresses. : Mary was deeply moved for in the pale evening twilight her aunt looked so wan and thin, that she seemed but a faint shadow of the creature whose lovely image had been the dream of her youth. At the time of Mary's arrival they were living in comparative comfort; but this had often been the case before. At first Lucy was able to enjoy these temporary cessations from care and poverty, but in time they ceased to be cessations from care; on the contrary, she was more miserable, because constantly living in apprehension. At first she made efforts to economize, but soon gave them up in despair; she found the money would go, whether she saved or not, and the more Augustus had, the faster he seemed to get rid of it; therefore she thought it better to have comfort and sufficiency while they could. Yet she was always absorbed in trouble and fears for the future, and less able than even when |