can't deceive me. I knew the moment I saw you together the first
time that you were fond of him; and when I was told by some one that you
were to marry Mr. Bethune, I laughed at them."

"I'm glad you did," replied Nan. "I care no more for Frank Bethune than
for Gabriel. I'll tell you the truth, if I thought I was in love with a
man, I'd hate him; I wouldn't submit to it."

"Well, you have been acting as if you hate Gabriel," suggested Eugenia.

"Oh, I don't like him half as well as I did when we were playfellows. I
think he's changed a great deal. His grandmother says he's timid, but to
me it looks more like conceit. No, child," Nan went on with an
affectation of great gravity; "the man that I marry must be somebody. He
must be able to attract the attention of everybody."

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to move away from this town, or remain an
old maid," said the other. "Or it may be that Gabriel will make a great
man. He and Paul belong to a debating society here in town, and Paul
says that Gabriel can make as good a speech as any one he ever heard.
They invited some of the older men not long ago, and mother heard Mr.
Tomlin say that Gabriel would make a great orator some day. Paul thinks
there is nobody in the world like Gabriel. So you see he is already
getting to be famous."

"But will he ever wear a red feather in his hat and a red sash over his
shoulder?" inquired Nan gravely. She was reverting now to the ideal hero
of her girlish dreams.

"Why, I should hope not," replied Eugenia. "You don't want him to be the
laughing-stock of the people, do you?"

"Oh, I'm not anxious for him to be anything," said Nan, "but you know
I've always said that I never would marry a man unless he wore a red
feather in his hat, and a red sash over his shoulder."

"When I was a child," remarked Eugenia, "I always said I would like to
marry a pirate--a man with a long black beard, a handkerchief tied
around his head to keep his hair out of his eyes, and a shining sword in
one hand and a pistol in the other."

"Oh, did you?" cried Nan, snuggling closer to her friend. "Let's talk
about it. I am beginning to be very old, and I want to talk about things
that make me feel young again."

But they were not to talk about their childish ideals that day, for a
knock came on the door, and Margaret Gaither was announced--Margaret,
who seemed to have no ideals, and who had confessed that she never had
had any childhood. She came in dignifi