oncern,
and a powerful smart man, they say. There's some kind of clever story
about his father's leaving a load of debts, and Frank's working a
deused number of years till they were paid. Good of him, wasn't it?
Then, just as he was going to take things easier and enjoy life a bit,
his mother died, and that rather knocked him up, you see. He fell
sick, and came to grief generally, Uncle Josh said; so he was ordered
off to get righted, and here he is, looking like a tombstone. I've a
regard for Frank, for he took care of me through the smallpox a year
ago, and I don't forget things of that sort; so, if you wish to be
introduced, Mrs. Carroll, I'll trot him out with pleasure, and make a
proud man of him."

Mrs. Carroll glanced at Debby, and as that young lady was regarding Mr.
Joe with a friendly aspect, owing to the warmth of his words, she
graciously assented, and the youth departed on his errand. Mr. Evan
went through the ceremony with a calmness wonderful to behold,
considering the position of one lady and the charms of the other, and
soon glided into the conversation with the ease of a most accomplished
courtier.

"Now I must tear myself away, for I'm engaged to that stout Miss
Bandoline for this dance. She's a friend of my sister's, and I must do
the civil, you know; powerful slow work it is, too, but I pity the poor
soul,--upon my life, I do;" and Mr. Joe assumed the air of a martyr.

Debby looked up with a wicked smile in her eyes, as she said,--

"Ah, that sounds very amiable here; but in five minutes you'll be
murmuring in Miss Bandoline's earm--'I've been pining to come to you
this half hour, but I was obliged to take out that Miss Wilder, you
see--countrified little thing enough, but not bad-looking, and has a
rich aunt; so I've done my duty to her, but deuse take me if I can
stand it any longer."

Mr. Evan joined in Debby's merriment; but Mr. Joe was so appalled at
the sudden attack that he could only stammer a remonstrance and beat a
hasty retreat, wondering how on earth she came to know that his
favorite style of making himself agreeable to one young lady was by
decrying another.

"Dora, my love, that is very rude, and 'Deuse' is not a proper
expression for a woman's lips. Pray, restrain your lively tongue, for
strangers may not understand that it is nothing but the sprightliness
of your disposition which sometimes runs away with you."

"It was only a quotation, and I thought you would admire a