It was Julia Jeffcourt.
Her first instinct--that she was too late and that her cousin had come to the cemetery to make some arrangements for the impending burial--was, however, quickly dissipated by the young girl's manner.
"Well, Sally Dows, YOU here! who'd have thought of seeing you to-day?
Why, Chet Brooks allowed that you danced every set last night and didn't get home till daylight.

And you--you that are going to show up at another party to-night too! Well, I reckon I haven't got that much ambition these times.

And out with your new bonnet too." There was a slight curl of her handsome lip as she looked at her cousin.
She was certainly a more beautiful girl than Miss Sally; very tall, dark and luminous of eye, with a brunette pallor of complexion, suggesting, it was said, that remote mixture of blood which was one of the unproven counts of Miss Miranda's indictment against her family.

Miss Sally smiled sweetly behind her big bow.

"If you reckon to tie to everything that Chet Brooks says, you'll want lots of string, and you won't be safe then.