Little Mary Marvel had no other sentiment for Julius than his sister had. She thought him the kindest and the best; and much as she reverenced the village pedagogues, she thought Julius's learning profounder than theirs, for he told them stories from the Arabian Nights—taught them the traditions of Monument Mountain—made them learn by heart the poetry that has immortalized them, and performed other miracles of learning and teaching, to which the schoolmaster didn't approach!
Children's judgments are formed on singular premises, but they are usually just conclusions. Julius was an extraordinary boy, and, fortunately, he was selected on that account, and not because he was sickly and could do nothing else (not uncommon grounds for this election), for a liberal education. Strong of heart and strong in body, he succeeded in everything, and without being a charge to his father. He went through college—was graduated with honour—studied law—and, when Mary Marvel was about nineteen, he came home from his residence in one of our thriving Western cities, for a vacation in his full legal business.
His first visit was to the Marvels, where he was received with as much warmth as in his father's home. As he left the house, he said to his sister Anne, who was with him—
"How shockingly poor Mary is looking!"
"Shockingly! Why, I expected you would say she was so pretty!"
"Pretty! My dear Anne, the roses on your cheek are worth all the beauty that is left in her pale face. What have they done to her? When you were children, she was at robust, round little thing—and so strong and cheerful—you could hear her voice half a mile, ringing like a bell; and now it's 'Hark from the tomb a doleful sound!' When I last saw her—let me see—four years ago—she was—not perhaps a Hebe—but a wholesome-looking girl."
"Julius!—what an expression!"
"Well, my dear, it conveys my meaning, and, therefore, is a good expression. What has been the matter? Has she had a fever? Is she diseased?"
"Julius! No! Is that the way the Western people talk about young ladies?—Mary is in poor health—rather delicate; but she does not look so different from the rest of our girls—I, you know, am an exception."
"Thank Heaven, you are, my dear Anne, and thank our dear, sensible mother, who understands the agents and means of health."