with a natural, rich suddenness; there was a catching joy in it,
that could not be withstood. She was the gentle hostess to
perfection; with tact enough to discover congenial spirits, and
bring them together, finding her own pleasure in the cheerful home
thus made. She possessed the rare but happy art of making every body
feel perfectly at home, one knew not why. For a moment, Alice stood
alone with her little hand resting upon the centre-table. Behind
her, two rather fashionable young men were talking and laughing
somewhat too loud, and jesting upon sacred things. A look of pain
passed over the face of the fair listener as she slowly turned
round, and said in a low but earnest tone, "Don't, Theodore! Excuse
me, but _such_ trifling pains me." The young gentlemen both appeared
mortified. "Pardon me! Alice," exclaimed Theodore Temple, "I will
try to break that habit for your sake. I was not aware that it
pained you so much--a lady's word is law!" and he bowed gallantly.

"No, no! Base your giving up of the habit upon principle, then it
will be permanent. Much obliged for the compliment"--Alice bowed
with assumed dignity, and her sweet face dimpled into a playful
smile, "but I have no faith in these pretty speeches. Remember, now,
I have your promise to try to break the habit; you will forfeit your
word if you do not; so you see your position, don't you?" Thus
saying, and without waiting for a reply, the young lady left them.

"I believe Miss Clinton is right, after all," remarked Temple's
companion. "What is the use of jesting on such subjects? We never
feel any better after it, and we subject ourselves to the
displeasure of those who respect these things. I pass my word to
give it up, if you will, Temple."