with a wickedness that belongs not to the sweet
face and laughing rosy mouth. The odds, I feel
guiltily, are sadly in favour of my kissing her
there and then, though papa plays propriety
like a strict old dragon. Fortunately (that is,
fortunately for our future intimacy, not
fortunately as regards present gratification), Ted
chimes in, and, by causing her to drop her
eyes, delivers me from a sin, or banishes it to
an unknown future.

How intimate we all grew in the course of
that long summer morning! Long before its
close, "blue eyes" had revealed to me many
charms besides her pretty face and natural
unaffected ways. It didn't do to treat her to our
usual common-place talk; she saw through it
at once, and quietly showed that she did so in
a few quaint remarks very prettily turned. She
was not in the least clever in the light of
saying sharp things. She was too thoroughly
kind-hearted to be sarcastic, and her quaint
little speeches were as natural to her as—as
Ted's clumsy blundering ways are to him. A
most amusing little blue eyes, and well versed
in all the provincial small-talk of the place.
Among other things, she told us of a ball to
be given at Harwich, to which both she and
her sister had a great wish to go, only they
didn't feel quite sure of their dress.

"You see," she went on, " we have nothing
here but these brown Carmelites, and I don't
think they would look very well."

/ didn't think so either; but I wasn't going to
tell her so. I praised the hideous attire, and
pronounced it, with the addition of a few
artistic touches (I haven't the least idea what I
meant), just the thing for a dance.

Ted put in his oar, fully agreeing with me.
"Besides," he added, "you mustn't be too
bewitching, your papa wouldn't like it; such
pretty daughters are a horrid responsibility,
without your trying to make things worse."

"Seriously, though," said blue eyes, "you
think we can go as we are?"

We assured her with perfect gravity that we
"thought so;" and the pretty face brightened
directly.

"It won't matter much, after all," she said,
"at the sea-side. And we can put on our
haircloth bodies, which will take off a little of the
heaviness."

We stood aghast. What were haircloth
bodies?

It wouldn't do, however, to show our
ignorance so we said, " Yes, that would do nicely,"
and the thing was considered settled.

It was agreed that we should meet them at
the ball. Blue eyes was there before us, and of
course papa and the little sister also, but they
were as nothing to us. Blue eyes was there
in her thick white haircloth body; a great
improvement on the brown carmelite, still
inconsistent with the gay scene around her.

Fortunately for her, however, she was pretty
enough to wear what she liked, or rather in this
case what she had. She knew no one, and
her father was very particular, and wouldn't let
her dance with everybody, or nearly everybody,
who asked her. He got her a few partners
through one of the naval officers stationed at
Harwich, and whom he knew; but beyond this,
and us, he laid his "veto."

Ted and I were in our element. We danced
every dance with her after the first or so, and
each waltz was better than the last. She was
a most indefatigable little dancer, and several
times nearly caused me to give in, though she
was light enough in all conscience, and a mere
nothing to hold.

But with Ted it was different. The dear
boy danced till he was frightful to look at, and
would have shamed a boiled lobster that had
any sort of self-respect left in him; yet still he
would not give in, and the wicked little sprite
had no compassion.

I began to be afraid that Ted would have a
fit, and that blue eyes would be the cause of it.
Ted always times things so ill. It is not as if
he had a room to himself to have one of his fits
in. In an uncomfortable bed at midnight, in a
double-bedded room, there should be I, sleepless,
with Ted groaning horribly, and sprawling at
full length on the floor, like some hideous
overgrown frog. Clearly, then, I must put a stop
to it.

So I go up to them, and—smiling at his
partner—tell Ted he will make himself unwell,
and will be quite knocked up in the morning;
and I amiably propose to blue eyes that / be
allowed to finish this eternal waltz.

Ted looks refractory and stubborn, though
steaming; and blue eyes, very quietly, declines
the exchange.

Blue eyes prefers Ted!

After all, what is Ted! A gentleman by
birth and position, it is true, and amusing
enough withal; but surely blue eyes, like all
other girls, thinks most of looks, and here I
flatter myself I do come in. I am of the
average height, slight, dark, and of prepossessing
appearance; decidedly better-looking than the
general run of men; while Ted is ridiculously
tall and broad, of the true Saxon type, with,
fluffy yellow hair, blue eyes, shining white
teeth, and all the rest of it. It is impossible;
no girl in her senses could prefer Ted.

Yet—after supper—on the stairs?

This is what happened after supper on the
stairs.

Blue eyes, looking (very properly, too)
mortally ashamed of herself, sitting on the edge of
a most uncomfortable step, with one little hand
clasped in Ted's, who was spooning in the most
alarming manner (alarming at least to any one
who knew how his fits were usually brought on),
and finishing up by a deliberate offer of
marriage.

Blue eyes then made one of her absurdly
formal little speeches, bringing in "papa" three
times; and finally ended where she might as
well have begun—by accepting Ted.

But I was resolved to give her an
opportunity. Young, poor little thing, and
inexperienced!