"Louise," said Beth, slowly, "is no more perfect than Arthur. They both
have faults which time may eradicate, and as at present they are not
disposed to be hypercritical they ought to get along nicely together."

"If 't was me," said the Major, oracularly, "I'd never marry Weldon."

"He won't propose to you, Daddy dear," returned Patsy, mischievously;
"he prefers Louise."

"I decided long ago," said Uncle John, "that I'd never be allowed to
pick out the husbands for my three girls. Husbands are a matter of
taste, I guess, and a girl ought to know what sort she wants. If she
don't, and makes a mistake, that's _her_ look-out. So you can all choose
for yourselves, when the time comes, and I'll stand by you, my dears,
through thick and thin. If the husband won't play fair, you can always
bet your Uncle John will." "Oh, we know, that," said Patsy, simply;
and Beth added: "Of course, Uncle, dear."

Thursday evening, the third and last of the series, was after all the
banner night of the great Kermess. All the world of society was present
and such wares as remained unsold in the booths were quickly auctioned
off by several fashionable gentlemen with a talent for such brigandage.
Then, the national dances and songs having been given and received
enthusiastically, a grand ball wound up the occasion in the merriest
possible way.

Charlie Mershone was much in evidence this evening, as he had been
before; but he took no active part in the proceedings and refrained from
dancing, his pet amusement. Diana observed that he made frequent trips