invitations. Now, confess, for you may as well, that when I proposed, a
few evenings ago, having a small select gathering of friends for Agnes's
sake, your very eyes shone with joy, for all you did wear that provoking
grave look. Confess, too, that you have thought of little else ever
since. I am sure you dreamed about it last night, for you looked very
smiling as you entered the breakfast room this morning."

"You are an incorrigible little rattle-brain, Ella, and, to punish you,
I have a great mind to declare I will not enter your party. How would
you like that?"

"I am not in the least alarmed, brother dear, that that threat will be
carried into execution, for the very good and sufficient reason, that
you would thus punish yourself worse than me. But if I stand talking any
longer, my invitations will not be written in season, so I must defer
our very edifying conversation till another opportunity,"--and, humming
a favorite air, the lively girl danced gaily out of the room.

Arthur, left alone, stood for a moment musing, half amused and half
vexed with his sister. He scarcely had ever mentioned Agnes's name, and
yet, he could not conceal from himself that he felt an interest in her,
beyond that he had ever experienced for any other woman.

"Absence is love's food," so poets say, and Arthur proved the truth of
the observation. While spending his college vacations at home, he had
often met with her before; and, even then, she charmed him as no other
woman ever did, but when report told of her engagement to Edward
Lincoln, honor forbade him any longer to cherish hopes which he had
allowed to tint with their bright hues his dreams of the future.