your chance best. He's an awful
flirt, though. I think good-looking men always are."

Cynthia flushed. Why should these things be profaned by foolish gossip.

Polly came over one afternoon. She had accomplished the bag and was
proud enough of it. And she announced Bentley's engagement.

"They will be married in the early fall; they are not going to build,
but have part of that double house of Nelsons'. She'll make a fine,
economical wife, and that is what men need who are trying to get along.
Assemblies and all that are not the thing for prudent married people."

"And one gets tired of them." She had a feeling just then that she
should never want to dance any more.

Cynthia was glad to have him settled, glad Jenny Willing had the man she
loved.

And the last time he had come back to her she had held up her finger to
him thoughtlessly, to shield herself from some other pointed attentions.
It had been a mean thing to do. But she had only meant it for that
evening, and he had gone on importunately. She was ashamed of it now.
Yes, she had better marry; then no one would be pleading for favors,
mistaking a simple smile for deeper meaning. Was her smile different
from that of other girls?

She watched Cousin Chilian narrowly. Was the old dear freedom between
them gone? He seemed rather abstracted. He did not call her into the
study, he went out oftener of an evening. Mr. Saltonstall would pass by,
then turn and walk up the path and sit down on the step. This would
occur several times a week. He asked her to ride with him, but she
shrank from that. She went over one evening on special invitation, when
Chilian was to play chess with the father. Mrs. Saltonstall took her in
quite as if she was one of the family, and really was very sweet to her.
And the old gentleman was fatherly.

That seemed to settle it for her, rather the fact that sank deeper in
her mind every day that Cousin Chilian wished her to marry and that this
young man was his preference. She allowed him to come a little nearer,
to hold her hand, to take nameless small freedoms, and he was always
delicate.

Would he be satisfied without all she could not help withholding? Would
it be right to give him a half love? But then how could she help loving
Cousin Chilian, who had been so tender to her in childhood? She would be
gladly content to stay without any nearer tie between them; of course,
that other could not be thought of.

One night Mr. Saltonstall a