MOLLIE'S MISCHIEF.


Miss Dane returned to New York "engaged," and with the fact known to
none save herself and the enraptured Welshman.

"There is no need to be in a hurry," the young lady said to her
elderly adorer; "and I want to be safely at home before I overwhelm
them with the news. There is always such fussing and talking made over
engagements, and an engagement is dreadfully humdrum and doweryish
anyhow."

That was what Miss Dane said. What she thought was entirely another
matter.

"I do want Doctor Oleander and Mr. Sardonyx to propose; and if they
discover I've accepted the baronet, they won't. I am dying to see
the wry faces they will make over 'No, thanks!' Then there is Hugh
Ingelow--"

But Mollie's train of wicked thoughts was apt to break off at this
point, and a remorseful expression cloud her blue eyes.

"Poor Hugh! Poor fellow! It's a little too bad to treat him so; and
he's dreadfully fond of me, too. But, then, it's impossible to help it;
of course it is. I want to be rich, and wear diamonds, and travel over
the world, and be 'My Lady!' and poor, dear Hugh couldn't keep a cat
properly. Ah! what a pity all the nice men, and the handsome men, must
be poor!"