ly. Lucien Decker's family
lived in a distant state, and only until he came to a northern college
to finish his studies had he known his pleasant relatives. He was a
bright, interesting, graceful youth, and wondrous clever, we thought.
We would spend morning after morning wandering up the mill-stream,
resting under the old oak, where Mr. Grayson would discourse most
pleasantly, or read aloud to us; and sometimes, after Effie and I had
chanted simple melodies, we would prevail on Lucien to recite some of
his own poetry, at which he was, indeed, most clever--he recited well,
and wrote very delicately and beautifully. At last Mr. Grayson
ventured on a proposal; but, to our sorrow, he met with a calm, gentle
refusal; and to relieve his disappointment, he sailed in the fall for
Europe.

Not long after his departure, to our surprise, Effie and Lucien
announced themselves as lovers. No objection, surely, could be made;
but such a thing had never entered our minds. Though of the same age
with Effie and myself, he had always seemed as a boy in comparison to
us, and I had always treated him with the playful familiarity of a
youth. He was more intelligent and interesting than young men of his
age generally are; indeed he gave promise of talent--and he was
likewise good-looking; but, in truth, when we compared him with the
elegant and finished Mr. Grayson, we felt a wee bit out of patience;
and if we did not give utterance aloud to our thoughts, I shrewdly
suspect if those thoughts had formed themselves into words, those
words would have sounded very much like, "Nonsensical sentimentality!"
"strange infatuation!" but nothing could be said with propriety, and
the engagement was fully entered into. Some time had necessarily to
elapse before its fulfillment, however, for the lover was but twenty;
but it was well understood, that when he had finished his studies, and
was settled in his profession, he was to wed our darling Effie. After
the acceptance of his suit, Lucien seemed perfectly happy, and, I must
confess, made himself particularly interesting. He walked and read
with us, and wrote such beautiful poetry in honor of Effie's charms,
that we were at last quite propitiated. He was, indeed, an ardent
lover; and his enthusiastic, earnest wooing, was very different from
Mr. Grayson's calm, dignified manner. He caused our quiet Effie a deal
of entertainment, however; for when he was an acknowledged lover, like
all such ardent disposit