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“Well, well, I’ll promise not to frown, even though some finer paragon should throw me completely in the shade.”

“You don’t believe in my yet,” he resumed, after a moment of thought. “I felt that I had blundered awfully a while ago; but I doubt it. A girl of your perceptions would soon have seen it all. I’ve not lost anything by being frank from the start. Be just to me, however. It wasn’t policy that led me to speak, but this homelike scene, and you appearing like the good genius of a home.”

He pulled out his watch, and gave a low whistle as he held it toward her. Then his manner suddenly became grave and gentle. “Carrie,” he said, “I wish you, not a merry Christmas, but a happy one, and many of them. It seems to me it would be a great privilege for a man to make a woman like you happy.”

“Is this the beginning of the suit?” she asked with a laugh that was a little forced.

“I don’t know. Perhaps it is; but I spoke just as I felt. Good- night.”

She would not admit of a trace of sentiment on her part. “Good- night,” she said. “Merry Christmas! Go home and hang up your stocking.”

“Bless me!” she thought, as she went slowly up the stairs, “I thought I was going to be through with him for good and all, except as a friend; but if he goes on this way–“

The next morning a basket of superb roses was left at her home. There was no card, and mamma queried and surmised; but the girl knew. They were not displeasing to her, and somehow, before the day was over, they found their way to her room; but she shook her head decidedly as she said, “He must be careful not to send me other gifts, for I will return them instantly. Flowers, in moderation, never commit a girl.”

But then came another gift–a book with pencillings here and there, not against sentimental passages, but words that made her think. It was his manner in society, however, that at once annoyed, perplexed, and pleased her. On the first occasion they met in company with others, he made it clear to every one that he was her suitor; yet he was not a burr which she could not shake off. He rather seconded all her efforts to have a good time with any and every one she chose. Nor did he, wallflower fashion, mope in the meanwhile and look unutterable things. He added to the pleasure of a score of others, and even conciliated Lottie, yet at the same time surrounded the girl of his choice with an atmosphere of unobtrusive devotion. She was congratulated on her conquest– rather maliciously so by Lottie. Her air of courteous indifference was well maintained; yet she was a woman, and could not help being flattered. Certain generous traits in her nature were touched also by a homage which yielded everything and exacted nothing.

The holidays soon passed, and he returned to his work. She learned incidentally that he toiled faithfully, instead of mooning around. At every coigne of vantage she found him, or some token of his ceaseless effort. She was compelled to think of him, and to think well of him. Though mamma and papa judiciously said little, it was evident that they liked the style of lover into which he was developing.

Once during the summer she said: “I don’t think it’s right to let you go on in this way any longer.”

“Are my attentions so very annoying?”

“No, indeed. A girl never had a more agreeable or useful friend.”

“Are you engaged to some other fellow?”

“Of course not. You know better.”

“There is no ‘of course not’ about it. I couldn’t and wouldn’t lay a straw in the way. You are not bound, but I.”

“You bound?”

“Certainly. You remember what I said.”

“Then I must accept the first man that asks me–“