g, dilatory
man or woman is simply a pest. But mind, my child, I am not characterizing
your friend; we cannot tell about her till we see."

The later train brought my friend. She was profuse in her regrets; she had
been belated by a mistake in the time; her watch was slow. As she was
pouring forth a torrent of regrets and apologies, I observed my father
bestowing glances of evident admiration at the fair speaker, while the
rich color came and went in her cheeks and her eyes kindled with
animation. Truly, beauty covers a multitude of faults. Sister Bell, who
was as punctual as my father, was appeased, and promised to take care of
the tea-things and let Bridget go out. My father good-naturedly offered to
regulate the halting watch by the true time.

To her chamber we went together, to talk as girls do talk when they meet
in this way, after a long separation. Folding me in her arms, she told me
all about her recent engagement to George Allibone; showed me her
engagement ring, and her lover's photograph. It was a noble head finely
posed, and a most engaging face, and my ready and cordial admiration was a
new bond of sympathy. It took until nearly midnight to say all that we
girls, aged twenty, had to say to each other; and this, in addition to the
fatigues of travel, was accepted as an excuse for Jenny's tardiness at
breakfast. She really had meant to be early.

But this was only the beginning. Throughout the whole three weeks of her
visit, she was scarcely punctual in a single case where time was
definitely appointed. She was late in rising, late at meals, late at
church and for excursions, and, to our profound mortification, late for
dinner appointments, even when parties were made especially on her
account. She seemed sorry and mortified, but on each occasion she would do
the same thing over again.

"What _can_ she be doing?" my mother sometimes asked in perplexity, when
my sister and I were ready and waiting.

"Doing her hair, mother," we answered, "and she will do it over until it
suits her, be it early or late."

"Oh, these hair-works!" sighed my mother. "How much tardiness at church
and elsewhere is due to over-fastidious hair-dressing! What is that line
of good George Herbert's? 'Stay not for the other pin.' I think he must
have meant hair-pins."

My sister and I sometimes agreed between ourselves to compel her to
readiness by standing by, to help her in her preparations; but in vain.
She must write a letter