sick a great
deal, and she does not feign it, either."

"Perhaps not," returned John Jr., "but she can at least keep her
_miserable feelings_ to herself. Nobody wants to know how many times
she's been blistered and bled!"

Still John Jr. acknowledged that there were somethings in Mabel which
he liked, for no one could live long with her and not admire her
gentleness and uncommon sweetness of disposition, which manifested
itself in numerous little acts of kindness to those around her.
Never before in her life had she been so constantly associated with a
young gentleman, and as she was quite susceptible, it is hardly more
than natural that erelong thoughts of John Jr. mingled in both her
sleeping and waking dreams. She could not understand him, but the
more his changeful moods puzzled her, the more she felt interested in
him, and her eyes would alternately sparkle at a kind word from him,
or fill with tears at the abruptness of his speeches; while he seemed
to take special delight in seeing how easily he could move her from
one extreme to the other.

Silently Mrs. Livingstone looked on, carefully noting each change,
and warily calculating its result. Not once since Mabel became an
inmate of her family had she mentioned her to her son, for she deemed
it best to wait, and let matters take their course. But at last,
anxious to know his real opinion, she determined to sound him.
Accordingly, one day when they were alone, she spoke of Mabel, asking
him if he did not think she improved upon acquaintance, at the same
time enumerating her many excellent qualities, and saying that
whoever married her would get a prize, to say nothing of a fortune.

Quickly comprehending the drift of her remarks, John Jr. replied, "I
dare say, and whoever wishes for both prize and fortune, is welcome
to them for all me."

"I thought you liked Mabel," said his mother; and John answered, "So
I do like her, but for pity's sake, is a man obliged to marry every
girl he likes? Mabel does very well to tease and amuse one, but when
you come to the marrying part, why, that's another thing."

"And what objection have you to her," continued his mother, growing
very fidgety and red.

"Several," returned John, "She has altogether too many aches and
pains to suit me; then she has no spirit whatever; and last, but not
least, I like somebody else. So, mother mine, you may as well give
up all hopes of that hundred thousand down in Alabama, for I shal