established over Mabel. She is ours, and need desire no other relations.
The next thing would have been an application for money, or board and
lodging, or some such thing, no doubt."

"How old did he seem to be, Evelyn?" I asked, conquering a qualm of
feeling at these words, and inexpressibly interested in her relation.

"I'm sure I can't tell, Miriam; about twenty-five or six, I suppose; the
usual age of all such bores. You know mamma was seven or eight and
twenty when she died, and she said he was much younger than herself, you
may remember."

"Oh, yes, I recollect perfectly. Did he resemble mamma, Evelyn? Was he
tall or short, fair or dark? Had he her lovely eyes? Do tell me about
him."

"None of these things. A sort of medium man; not at all like mamma,
however, as far as I could see on such brief scrutiny, and as well as I
remember; with fine eyes, however. Not as good-looking as Claude
Bainrothe, by any means. Commonplace, very, with a seedy coat.
By-the-way, Miriam, _he_ will be back next week, I believe, and then you
will see this phenomenon. You know Mr. Bainrothe and papa design you for
one another."

"Papa, indeed! I suppose you mean Claude Bainrothe," and I laughed
disdainfully, I fear. "Nay, it is you rather, Evelyn, who have
captivated this piece of perfection, as far as I can learn. At least,
this is the report that--" I hesitated--colored.

"Finish your sentence, Miriam. The report that your faithful spies,