wasn't it heavenly? Wasn't it romantic?--and to the gentleman with
the long fair moustache who had been so much at their house lately.

"I knew it would come--I have seen it coming for a long time.
Oh! I'm not easily blinded;" Aldith said. "I know true love when
I see it. Though certainly for myself I should prefer a dark
moustache, should not you, Marguerite?"

"Ye--es," said Meg. Her views were hardly formed yet on the
subject.

"Jet black, with waxed ends, very stiff," Aldith continued
thoughtfully, "and a soldierly carriage, and very long black
lashes."

"So should I," Meg said, fired in a moment. "Like Guy Deloraine
in 'Angelina's Ambition'." Aldith put her arm more tightly round
her friend.

"Wouldn't it be HEAVENLY, Marguerite, to be engaged--you and I?"
she said, in a tone of dreamy rapture. "To have a dark,
handsome man with proud black eyes just dying with love for you,
going down on his knees, and giving you presents, and taking you
out and all--oh, Marguerite, just think of it!"

Melt's eyes looked wistful. "We're not old enough, though, yet,"
she said with a sigh.

Aldith tossed her head. "That's nonsense; why, Clara Allison is
only seventeen, and look at your own stepmother. Plenty of girls