cultivating vanity--in others. In her own room was a long pier-glass,
where a certain young person stole brief glimpses of herself.

"I'll go in there," she thought. "Aunt Peace is in the kitchen, and no
one will know."

She left the door open, that she might hear approaching footsteps, and
was presently lost in contemplation. She turned her head this way and
that, taking pleasure in the gleam of light upon the shining coils of
her hair, and in the rosy tint of her cheeks. Just above the corner of
her mouth, there was the merest dimple.

Iris smiled, and then poked an inquiring finger into it. "I didn't know
I had that," she said to herself, in surprise. "I wonder why I couldn't
have a glass like this in my room? There's one in the attic--I know
there is,--and oh, how lovely it would be!"

"It's where I kissed you," said Lynn, from the doorway. "If you'll keep
still, I'll make another one for you on the other side. You didn't have
that dimple yesterday."

"Mr. Irving," replied Iris, with icy calmness, "you will kindly let me
pass."

He stepped aside, half afraid of her in this new mood, and she went down
the hall to her own room. She shut the door with unmistakable firmness,
and Lynn sighed. "Happy mirror!" he thought. "She's the prettiest thing
that ever looked into it."

But was she, after all? Since the great mirror came over-seas, as part
of the marriage portion of a bride, many young eyes had sought its
shining surface and lingered upon the vision of their own loveliness.
Many a woman, day by day, had watched herself grow old, and the mirror
had seen tears because of it. The portraits in the hall and the old
mirror had shared many a secret together. Happily, neither could betray
the other's confidence.

Iris, meanwhile, was finding such satisfaction as she might in the
smaller glass, and meditating upon the desirability of the one in the
attic. "I'll ask Aunt Peace," she thought, and knew, instantly, that she
wouldn't ask Aunt Peace for worlds.

"I'm vain," she said to herself, reprovingly; "I'm a vain little thing,
and I won't look in the mirror any more, so there!"

She reviewed her humdrum round of daily duties with increasing pity for
herself. Then, she had had only the books and the people who moved
across their eloquent pages, but now? Surely, Cupid had come to East
Lancaster.

Just think! Two letters, not so very far apart, from someone who
worshipped her at a distance and was afraid to sign h