"Oh, any old wedding; will it be here, in the den? You going to invite us
all?" asked Kitty.

"Isn't going to be any wedding."

"I'm sorry; I always did lot on weddings."

"You'll have to be the bride, then. Honest, Kitty, I don't like jokes on
such subjects. Mr. Burke and I haven't an idea of being married, not for
centuries."

Kitty went white all in a minute. She is so quick tempered.

"Oh," said she, "you're going to throw him over. I thought as much! You
were always writing to him when you first came to the city, and talking
about him, at night when we brushed our hair; but lately you haven't
spoken of him at all. You used to look happier when the postman brought
you something from him. And you had his picture--"

"The postman's?" I interrupted, but Kitty kept on as if she were wound
up:--

"--on the mantel-piece, in a white-and-gold frame with your own. You hid
'em both when you began to grow beautiful. I suppose you think you're too
good for him. But don't go and break his heart; please don't, Princess;
there's a dear."

"Goose! I haven't the least notion of breaking his heart. I--why can't you
let me alone? I'm--I'm very fond of him--if you will insist on talking