cud of reflection. It was bitter, not because she was in love with him,
for she was not. In her heart she knew he bored her a little. But she
was piqued. Evidently he had been afraid to marry "that dreadful girl."
She was piqued and she was sad. She recognized that it was another case
of not being fit. When would she be fit? What was she to do in order to
become fit--fit like the girl who was not allowed to stay on the water
after nine o'clock? She had ceased to think of the young man, but the
image of his sister haunted her. How stylish she was, yet how simple and
quiet! "I wonder," thought Flossy to herself, "if I could ever become
like her." The reflection threw her into a brown study in which she
remained for weeks, and during which she refused the hand of a staid and
respectable townsman, who, in her father's words, was ready to take her
with all her follies. David Price was disappointed. He loved this
independent daughter, and he had hopes that her demure and reticent
deportment signified that the effervescence of youth had evaporated. But
it was only an effort on Flossy's part to imitate the young man's
sister.

At this juncture and just when she was bored and dispirited by the
process, Gregory Williams appeared on the scene. Flossy met him at a
dancing party. He had a very tall collar, a very friendly, confident,
and (toward her) devoted manner, and good looks. It was whispered among
the girls that he was a banker from New York. He was obviously not over
thirty, which was young for a banker, but so he presently described
himself to Flossy with hints of impending prosperity. He spoke glibly
and picturesquely. He had a convincing eloquence of gesture--a wave of
the hand which suggested energy and compelled confidence. He had picked
her out at once to be introduced to, and sympathy between them was
speedily established. Her wearing, as a red-headed girl, a white horse
in the form of a pin, in order to prevent the attention of the men to