rman professor they had
met, and she could give no reply to the Count.

Now, however, it was necessary to make a decision. She had meanwhile
learned a few words of Russian. The Count spoke English moderately well,
made himself understood better than the Professor, and could understand
Elizabeth Eliza's French. Also the Count knew how to decide questions
readily, while the Professor had to consider both sides before he could
make up his mind.

Mrs. Peterkin objected strongly at first. She could not even pronounce
the Russian's name. "How should she be able to speak to him, or tell
anybody whom Elizabeth Eliza had married?" But finally the family all
gave their consent, won by the attention and devotion of Elizabeth
Eliza's last admirer.

The marriage took place in Constantinople, not at Santa Sophia, as
Elizabeth Eliza would have wished, as that was under a Mohammedan
dispensation. A number of American residents were present, and the
preceptor sent for his other pupils in Athens. Elizabeth Eliza wished
there was time to invite the lady from Philadelphia to be present, and
Ann Maria Bromwick. Would the name be spelled right in the newspapers?
All that could be done was to spell it by telegraph as accurately as
possible, as far as they themselves knew how, and then leave the papers
to do their best (or their worst) in their announcements of the wedding
"at the American Consulate, Constantinople, Turkey. No cards."

The last that was ever heard of the Peterkins, Agamemnon was on his way
to Madagascar, Solomon John was at Rustchuk, and the little boys at
Gratz; Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, in a comfortable sledge, were on their way
from Tobolsk to Yakoutsk; and Elizabeth Eliza was passing her honeymoon
in the neighborhood of Moscow.

* * * * *

OTHERS OF THEIR KIN.

* * * * *

IX.

LUCILLA'S DIARY.

MONDAY.--I spent some time this morning watching for the rag-man. I wish
I had taken down a note which day it was I saw him before. I remember it
was washing-day, for I had to take my hands out of the tub and wipe the
suds off when Johnnie came to tell me that the rag-man was on the
street. He was just turning the corner by the Wylies when I got to the
front gate. But whether we washed on Monday I can't think. It rained
that Monday, or the week before, and we had to wait till Tuesday; but
which it was I couldn't say. I was in such a whirl fitting A