in forest, the trammels of long courtship and
other fashionable follies are unknown: heart meets heart as the pure
woodland streams meet each other and become one.

Before I set out I gave a dinner-party at The Beauties to announce to my
gentleman friends the joyful event. At the dessert I rose and proposed
the health of my future bride.

"And may it be years before she arrives at The Beauties!" mumbled Percy
Flyaway when they had drunk the toast.

"I hope you will all welcome her at a grand reception here in--about a
month or six weeks." I remembered just in time that I had best not fix a
date, as something might intervene.

A storm of questions, exclamations and remarks ensued.

"Lovely?"

"As fair as poet's dreaming."

"Die Vernon?"

"Not for Joe!"

"The Soprano?"

A shake of my head.

"Anabel?"

"No."

"Who is she?"

"Let us drink her health again," said one, getting thirsty, and fearing
in the excitement the bottle would not be passed.

"Tell us all about her," cried another.

"Gentlemen," said I seriously when the noise had slightly abated, "you
know I am a deuced good fellow."

"Hear! hear!" they cried.

"That you are!" said Percy.

"Well, I am going to get a deuced good wife."

"Congratulate you, old fellow!"

"Do you think of going up in a balloon for a wedding-trip?"

They all came around me, clinked their glasses with mine, shook hands
with me, and drank my health, her health, the health of my
mother-in-law, and any other toast that would serve as an excuse for
emptying a glass.

"I say, will she cut rough on us chaps?" asked Percy in a plaintive
voice as the hubbub subsided.

"Gentlemen," cried I, waving my hand, "my wife that is to be is an
angel."

"Wish she would stay in heaven!" muttered Percy.

"What I mean by an angel is a perfect woman."

"Worse still," said the irrepressible Perce. (By the by, the wits had
nicknamed him "Perce sans purse," because he was poor, you know, but he
was a good fellow, quite.)

"Gentlemen, let me explain."

"Hear! hear!"

"I have been looking for a wife for the past year: I have thought much
on the subject, for I think it an important one."

"Solomon!" said Perce out of his wine-glass.

"Now, a good wife must be a refined, gentle, kind, loving, beautiful
woman, with no nonsense about her."

"Amen to the last clause!" cried Bear de Witt.

"You have found her?" asked Percy, absently watching the sparkling
bubbles rise one afte