r
theme awakened, and the fresh bloom upon her cheeks now going, now
coming, following in some subtile way the quick movements of her mind.
An hour slid by, and then she started from her revery with a sudden
thought. The sadness in her eyes gave way to mirth and a twinkle of fun;
the color came faster, the lips broke into a most roguish smile.

"I'll do it!" she whispered. "I _will_!" she added, with convincing
emphasis and a countenance brimming over with mischief.

It was a foolish project,--a most insane and inexcusable one. It had,
however, the spice of romance, and it might afford her some amusement
and a little excitement during the coming months of misery. It was
suggested by some demon of mischief, and was all the more attractive
coming from such a source. It came about naturally enough, too. On the
morning of that same day her particular intimate, Anna Desbrough, and
she had fallen upon the college catalogue which Anna's brother Tom had
sent for to guide him in his preparatory studies. The names of the
students had proved interesting reading-matter, and the two girls had
speculated as to the probable appearance of this one and that, and had
even gone so far as to select the one whom they thought they would
prefer among those mentioned. They had indulged in a vast deal of
imaginative nonsense, and had finally thrown the book aside and returned
to more rational topics; but the recollection of the morning's pastime
had not quite faded from Mabel's mind. The name was still fresh in her
memory,--Mortimer Granville Dudley: how grand! how musical!

"I will!" she had exclaimed, with determination; and, being a young lady
of her word, she hastily collected pen, ink, and paper to carry out her
threat.

"MY DEAR MR. DUDLEY," she wrote (she had hesitated long between
"Mr. Dudley" and plain "Mort," with the result shown), "how long
ago it seems since those days when we were playmates together! I
hardly think it probable, though, that you can have forgotten me.
My position would certainly be a very awkward one if you had. But,
remembering as I do so well those happy times, and particularly
your juvenile vows of constancy at the moment of our parting, I
cannot believe that I am mistaken in trusting in their sincerity
and truth.

"By a mere accident I heard the other day of your whereabouts, and,
as I for one still feel the same interest in my playmate that I
us