The face, though intellectual, and artistically beautiful, was not prepossessing.

The expression was cold and haughty; and for this reason she had received the appellations of "Minerva" and "Juno," such being considered by her fellow-pupils as singularly appropriate.
Mary, on the contrary, was slight and drooping, and her sweet, earnest countenance, elicited the love of the beholder, even before an intimate acquaintance had brought to view the beautiful traits of her truly amiable character.
And yet these girls, diametrically opposed in disposition, clung to each other with a strength of affection only to be explained by that strongest of all ties, early association.
Florence broke the seal of her letter, and Mary walked to the window.
It looked out on a narrow street, through which drays rattled noisily, and occasional passengers picked their way along its muddy crossings.
Mary stood watching the maneuvers of a little girl, who was endeavoring to pass dry-shod, when a low groan startled her; and turning quickly, she perceived Florence standing in the center of the room, the letter crumpled in one hand: her face had grown very pale, and the large eyes gleamed strangely.
"Oh! Florry, what is the matter?
Is your father ill--dead--tell me quick ?" and imploringly she clasped her hands.
Florence made a powerful effort, and spoke, in her usual tone: "I was foolish to give way to my feelings, even for a moment--my father is well." She paused, and then added, as if painfully, "But, oh! he is almost penniless!" "Penniless!" echoed Mary, as though she could not comprehend her cousin's meaning.
"Yes, Mary, he has been very unfortunate in his speculations, obliged to sell our plantation and negroes, and now, he says, 'a few paltry thousands only remain;' but, oh! that is not the worst; I wish it were, he has sold out everything, broken every tie, and will be here this evening on his way to Texas.

He writes that I must be ready to accompany him to-morrow night." She paused, as if unwilling to add something which must be told, and looked sadly at her cousin.
Mary understood the glance.
"Florry, there is something in the letter relating to myself, which you withhold for fear of giving me pain: the sooner I learn it the better." "Mary, here is a letter inclosed for you; but first hear what my father says," and hurriedly she read as follows: ...

"With regard to Mary, it cannot be expected that she should wish to accompany us on our rugged path, and bitterly, bitterly do I regret our separation.
Her paternal uncle, now in affluence, has often expressed a desire to have her with him, and, since my misfortunes, has written me, offering her a home in his family.

Every luxury and advantage afforded by wealth can still be hers.