one could dislike him either."

"I am delighted to hear you say so; but I want you to say some more.
Tell me what you think of Mr. Heron; I am curious to know. You are so
much more clever than I, and you can understand people and see into
them. Tell me exactly what you see in Mr. Heron."

"Why do you want to know all this, Lucy?"

"Because I want to hear your opinion very particularly, for you are not
a hero-worshipper, and you don't admire men in general. Some girls are
such enthusiastic fools that they make a hero out of every good-looking
young man they meet. But you are not like that, Nola."

"Oh, no! I am not like that," Nola echoed, not without a thought that
now, perhaps, there were moments when she almost wished she were.

"Well, then, tell me. First, do you think Mr. Heron handsome?"

"Yes, Lucy, I think he is handsome."

"Then do you like him? Do tell me what you think of him."

"In the name of heaven," Minola asked herself, "why should I not speak
the truth in answer to so plain and innocent a question?" She answered
quietly, and looking straightforward at the fire:

"I like Mr. Heron very much, Lucy. I don't know many men--young men
especially--but I like him better than any young man I have met as yet."

"As yet. Yes, yes. I am glad to hear you say that," Lucy said with
beaming eyes, and growing good-humoredly saucy in her very delight. "As
yet. Yes, you put that in well, Nola."

"How so, dear?"

"Oh, you know. Because of the one yet to present himself; the not
impossible He--nearly impossible though--who is to be fit for my Nola. I
tell you I shall scrutinize him before I allow his pretensions to pass.
Well, now, about Mr. Heron?"

"I think him a very brave, generous, and noble-hearted young man. I
think he has not a selfish thought or a mean purpose about him, and I
think he has spirit and talent; and I hope one day to hear that he has
made himself an honorable name."

Lucy turned now to Minola a pair of eyes that were moist with tears.

"Tell me, Nola"--and her voice grew a little tremulous--"don't you think
he's a man a woman might fall in love with?"

There was a moment's silence, and Lucy leaned upon Nola's knees, eagerly
looking into her face. Then Nola answered, in a quiet, measured
undertone,

"Oh, yes, Lucy; I do indeed. I think he is a man a woman might fall in
love with."

"Thank you, Nola. That is all I wanted to ask you."

There was another pause.

"Nola!"

"Yes, Lu