"Papa," cried his daughter, desirous to divert attention from herself,
"can you find nothing instructing in the paper to read to us? Is there
no report of any speech?"

"Speeches, indeed! Thank Heaven, there is no speech in this paper.
The session of Congress has not commenced, and the deluge of words, in
comparison with which Noah's flood was a summer's shower, therefore,
not begun. Why, my dear little daughter, do you remind me of the
national calamity?"

"To atone for the offence, papa, let me tell you that Mr. Armstrong
and Faith promised to come to see us this evening, and from the sound
of the opening of the front gate, I suspect they are close at hand."

Anne's conjecture proved true, for shortly after the expected visitors
were announced, and the usual greetings having passed, they were all
soon seated.

But before proceeding further, it may not be amiss to give some
description of persons destined to play a not unimportant part in our
story.

Mr. Armstrong was of middle age, of the ordinary stature, and with a
face which still possessed great beauty. A noble brow, hair originally
black, but prematurely grey, large dark eyes, a straight nose, and
a well-formed mouth, over which played an expression of benevolence,
made an exterior of exceeding attractiveness, and it would have been
an unmixed pleasure to gaze upon his gracious presence, but for an air
of dejection amounting to suffering, which had of late been increasing