is too much trouble to write different letters to
each one, so I get up one bright, smart one that suits all around, and
copy it for them all, with some changes."

This speech almost stunned Ethel for a while. "But doesn't it vex them
very much to get such letters? What if they should find it out? And if you
don't at all care for them, why do it at all?"

"Why, for the _fun_ of the thing, goosie. Angry? No. They do the same
thing themselves. Will Piper sent Kate Price and me letters that were
exactly the same, word for word: we compared them. That is where I got the
idea. Splendid one, isn't it? I am just bent and determined on having
stacks of fun before I am married, because after that, you know, I shall
be laid on the shelf completely," said Bijou.

"But why should you be 'laid on the shelf'? I can't make it out. Your life
will be just beginning," said Ethel.

"Well, because what is so is _so_," replied Bijou, showing her some
patterns for slippers, watch-pockets, tobacco-pouches, and so on, that she
meant to work up for birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, "philopoenas,"
and other festive occasions, as presents for the adorers.

It is perhaps clearer now why Bijou laid no stress whatever on Mr.
Drummond's attentions, while she seemed to him to be receiving them with
marked favor. When, on their leaving New York, Mr. Brown had asked him to
go home with them and spend a month, he looked upon the prize as won.
Before going to Chicago he had shown this so plainly that Bijou had
snubbed him roundly,--a course so foreign to her amiable nature and
hospitable creed that on his return she had received him with a kindness
that had revived all his hopes,--or rather designs. He utterly
misunderstood it, and easily persuaded himself that he was practically
irresistible. The drive of that afternoon had been planned by him that he
might ask the fateful question. He had asked it, and, presumptuously
taking her answer for granted, had slipped an arm about her waist, when,
to his great surprise, he had found himself half ordered, half pushed out
of the buggy immediately, after which Bijou, transported by fury, had laid
the whip once smartly across his shoulders and driven away at a gallop,
leaving him standing in the middle of the road, an angry man.

She went home, as we have seen, and told her father, who was distinctly
excited on hearing it, ordered Mr. Drummond's effects to be packed and
sent to the hotel in Kalsing at once