The Daily Phoenix

A Tale of the Palmetto State.

CHAPTER XIV.—JULIET'S BIRTH-DAY.

The 30th of November had come—
Juliet Clayburn's birth-day. The whole
establishment at Mrs. Thurlow's being
in a state of commotion and uproar
therefrom. All the young people in
Miss Clayburn's set were in a flutter of
expectation and delight, for Mrs. Thur-
low's parties were noted abroad for
charming models of social entertainment.
The young men thought about "those
two fine young ladies in the house,
and decided it would, necessarily, be a
tip-top affair."

At the breakfast table, Juliet's plate
was covered with presents, and the ser-
vants, for want of room, had removed
some of them to a side table. Mr. Clay-
burn had sent his daughter a check for a
thousand dollars, which Cornelia vowed
was even better than the handsome ring
he had given her in the summer.

"I would rather like spending my
vacations away from home," added Cor-
nelia, "if I was rewarded for it in that
style. Let me see your ring a moment,
Juliet; I would like to observe whether
it will set off my hand as it does yours.
I have always been possessed with an
inordinate desire for a diamond ring."

"I cannot take off my ring," said Ju-
liet, leaning over her father's letter to
conceal her lamentable confusion.

"I
promised the giver never to do so."

"Well, your father and yourself are
very foolish. The ring will be ruined,
in a few months, washing your hands in
it constantly."

"No," replied Juliet; "the setting is
water-proof."

This conversation occurred the day
before Juliet's birth-day, when her
father's letter, containing the check, had
arrived.

On the morning of the 30th, Professor
Von Oppenheim entered the breakfast
room before Juliet, and placed a purple
velvet prayer-book, clasped with gold,
on the table, among the collection of
presents. He had come over from the
university, the preceding day, for the
ostensible purpose of consulting some
rare old works in the Ashburn College
library.

"What an unexpected and opportune
arrival!" exclaimed Cornelia, in
her
greeting.

"Decidedly," answered the young pro-
fessor, shaking hands with Juliet. "Ru-
dolph has written me such marvellous
accounts of the grand party which this
young lady is to have, I thought it
advisable to time my flying visit, so as
to enjoy the fun with the rest."

Juliet entered the breakfast room, on
the morning in question, rosy and fresh,
with a happy smile on her face. She
examined the presents, with much en-
joyment, uttering numerous and divers
exclamations of delight. There was a
chaste set of cameos from Mrs. Thurlow,
a gold pencil from Cornelia, a rose-wood
writing-desk from Rudolph, besides
numerous other things from school
friends, which had been smuggled into
the house without the knowledge of
Juliet.

"I suppose this is Mademoiselle," said
the delighted girl, placing her hand on
the prayer book. Unsuspiciously, she
opened it and read the few words on the
fly-leaf. They were simple enough and
there was no apparent reason to those
who stood around, why the crimson
blood flowed in such a torrent to her
face. Cornelia was fortunately looking
at the cameo set.

"What is the matter, Juliet?" asked
her aunt, taking the book from her
niece's hand and reading the inscription:
"Juliet Clayburn—a birth-day gift from
her friend K. Von O." Thus Karl had
written, thinking the apparent friendship
would disarm suspicion.

"What are you blushing about, Ju-
liet?" again asked her aunt, sternly,
looking first at Juliet and then at Karl.
Professor Von Oppenheim was standing
at the grate, unconcernedly humming an
air from Rossini's Barbiere in Siviglia.
Rudolph was nearly frantic with dismay,
and Karl, glancing over to Juliet's crim-
son face and utter confusion, thought
the game was up for good.

"Answer me, Juliet," persisted Mrs.
Thurlow.

"Don't you see what she is so confused
about?" exclaimed Rudolph. "It is that
bouquet staring at her with Mr. Babbitt's
card, stuck on like a sign-board."

"Is it possible, Juliet, you are just as
silly as ever about Harry Babbitt? What
you see so irresistible about that boyish
fop, I cannot conceive"

"Unless," Cornelia added, laughing,
"it is his money and his fine horses.
I
have always had my doubts, heretofore,
whether you really cared for him, but
this is indubitable proof, 'strong as holy
writ."

"You are egregiously mistaken, Cor-
nelia," said Juliet, smiling and recover-
ing her self-possession. "I like Harry
well enough in a friendly way, but I'm
certainly not in love with him."

"Of course, you will not acknowledge
it," said Rudolph; "but pooh!
pooh!
Juliet, you can't hoax me! What makes
you blush so, then, whenever you see the
letter H or B?"

"I'm not so bad as that, I think," re-
plied Juliet; "but how can I help blush-
ing, when everybody teases me so much
about him. All the school girls—Corne-
lia—Rudolph—everybody, even to Mr.
Von Oppenheim," (which was, by-the-
way, a terrible fib, for Mr. Von Oppen-
heim was as jealous as a bearded Turk,
and felt himself personally aggrieved if
Juliet treated Harry with ordinary civili-
ty,) "even to Mr. Von Oppenheim,"
con-
tinued Juliet,
under
which circum-
stances, I do not see how it is possible
for me to keep perfectly cool and serene,
when he pays me any little attention.

"If you have finished that lawyer-like
piece of vindication,"
remarked Mrs.
Thurlow,
we
will eat our breakfast.
Everything is getting cold.

"But I haven't yet
thanked
my
friends," said Juliet, "for such a charm-
ing manifestation of their affection. You
have all been extremely kind, and I am
proportionately thankful and grateful."

She kissed her aunt, Rudolph and Cor-
nelia, and then, with downcast eyes and
a color which would rise in spite of her-
self, shook hands with Professor Von
Oppenheim.

That is certainly a magnificent nose-
gay," observed Cornelia, as they seated
themselves at the table, "in consideration
of which you might be pardoned for
feeling a slight touch of the soft impeach-
ment, even for Harry Babbitt. Those
camelias will look splendid in your hair
to-night."

"Oh yes,"
asserted Juliet,
"they are
just the thing. You must patronize them
also, Cornelia—there
are
plenty
for
both."

Which Cornelia took care to do, select-
ing the handsomest for her own black
locks. This did not matter, however, as
it turned out, for while the girls were
making their toilets, Rudolph brought
to the door another conservatory collec-
tion, purporting to be from himself, but
Juliet knew whence they came, and that
she was expected to reject poor Harry's
obnoxious flowers and deck her hair with
those more recently received. Happily
for Harry Babbitt's peace of mind, he
was in blissful ignorance of the differ-
ence between one white camelia and
another, and when he saw the queen of
his soul wearing the flowers he had sent
her in the morning, as he fondly fancied,
his feelings were something to be envied.

TO BE CONTINUED.