That excellent young lady had heard from Mrs. Carrington of the strangers’ visit, and she was impatient to know who they were and had dispatched a negro girl to reconnoiter and report.  The girl soon came back, her eyes projecting like coffee saucers, and the little braided tags of her hair seemingly standing upright.

“Oh, Miss Julia!” said she, “that ar’ tall, black man—­no, I ax yer pardon, miss—­that ar’ tall, yaller man, done shook hands ’long of Miss Fanny, who kissed him, and called him Uncle William.  She said how he done been with the Injuns.”

“Her Uncle William!” repeated Julia, in amazement.  “And who is the other man?  His son?”

“Yes, reckon so,” said the negro.  “They done call him Mr. Camel, or Camlet, or suthin.  I tell you he’s han’some; and I reckon he’s tuk with Miss Fanny.  Jiminy hoecake!  Ain’t she pooty?  She looked a heap han’somer than you—­no, I don’t mean so—­I axes pardon agin.”  And the negro bobbed out of the door just in time to dodge a ball of soap which Julia hurled at her head.

“It’s no use fretting so,” said Mrs. Carrington, who was present.  “The young man is married, for he spoke of his wife.”

Julia did not answer, and Mrs. Carrington soon after left the room.  When she was gone, Julia muttered to herself, “Uncle William, from the Indies; rich as Croesus, of course.  What a fool I was not to go to the party.  Most likely Fanny has won his good graces by this time.  However, I’ll dress myself and surprise him with my beauty, if nothing else.”

Accordingly, the next hour was spent in decorating her person, and when Fanny came for her she was ready to make an assault upon the good opinion of her rich uncle.  Not a thing was out of place, from the shining braids of her dark hair to the tiny slipper on her delicate foot.

Fanny’s first exclamation on entering the room was, “How beautiful you look, Julia!  It is exceedingly fortunate that you are dressed so becomingly; for, will you believe it, Uncle William is down stairs!”

“Is it possible?” said Julia, affecting much surprise.

“Yes,” answered Fanny.  “You know father thinks him dead.  But come, he is anxious to see you.”

Julia arose to go with her sister, and said, “Isn’t there a young man with him?”

“How did you know that?” asked Fanny, in some astonishment.

“I saw them from the window,” was Julia’s ready reply.

Fanny did not think of doubting her sister, and she answered, “It is a Mr. Cameron.  He is cousin to Mrs. Miller.”

By this time they had reached the parlor, which was open.  Here Julia thought proper to be seized with a fit of modest indifference, and hesitated a moment before entering the room.  Her uncle, however, immediately came forward, and relieved her from all embarrassment by saying, “And this, I suppose, is Julia.  My brother is a happy man to be father of such charming girls.”