my Julia. Why, your thoughts run by nature away from yourself; you were
born for others."

Her daughter kissed her gratefully, and smiled: but after a pause, said,
sorrowfully, "Ah! that was the old Julia, as seen with your dear eyes. I
have almost forgotten _her._ The new one is what I tell you, dear mamma,
and that" (within sudden fervour) "is a dreamy, wandering, vain,
egotistical, hysterical, abominable girl."

"Let me kiss this monster that I have brought into the world," said Mrs.
Dodd. "And now let me think." She rested her eyes calm and penetrating
upon her daughter; and at this mere look, but a very searching one, the
colour mounted and mounted in Julia's cheek strangely.

"After all," said Mrs. Dodd thoughtfully, "yours is a critical age.
Perhaps my child is turning to a woman; my rosebud to a rose. And she
sighed. Mothers will sigh at things none other ever sighed at.

"To a weed, I fear," replied Julia. "What will you say when I own I felt
no real joy at Edward's return this time? And yesterday I cried, 'Do get
away, and don't pester me!'"

"To your brother? Oh!"

"Oh, no, mamma, that was to poor Spot. He jumped on me in a reverie, all
affection, poor thing."

"Well, for your comfort, dogs do not appreciate the niceties of our
language."