e seems
to cling to me even when she is most provokingly saucy; and though I
cannot see any love in her manner, there is something in it very
different from hate; and this it is which holds me. Can a woman be too
pretty for her own happiness, and are many lovers a weariness to the
heart?

* * * * *

Juliet is positively unhappy. To-day when she laughed the gayest it
was to hide her tears, and no one, not even a thoroughly spoiled
beauty, could be as wayward as she if there were not some bitter arrow
rankling in her heart. She was riding down the street on a pillion
behind her father, and Colonel Schuyler, who had been leaning on the
gate in front of his house, turned his back upon her and went inside
when he saw her coming. Was this what made her so white and reckless
when she came up to where I was standing with Orrin Day, and was it
her chagrin at the great man's apparent indifference which gave that
sharp edge to the good-morning with which she rode haughtily away? If
it was I can forgive you, my lady-bird, for there is reason for your
folly if I am any judge of my fellow-men. Colonel Schuyler is not
indifferent but circumspect, and circumspection in a lover is an
insult to his lady's charms.

* * * * *

She knows now what I knew a week ago. Colonel Schuyler is in love with
her and will marry her if she does not play the coquette with him. He
has been to her house and her father already holds his head higher as
he paces up and down the street. I am left in the lurch, and if I had
not foreseen this end to my hopes, might have been a very miserable
man to-night. For I was near obtaining the object of my heart, as I
know from her own lips, though the words were not intended for my
ears. You see I was the one who surprised him talking with her in the
garden. I had been walking around the place on the outer side of the
wall as I often did from pure love for her, and not knowing she was on
the other side was very much startled when I heard her voice speaking
my name; so much startled that I stood still in my astonishment and
thus heard her say:

"Philo Adams has a little cottage all his own and I can be mistress of
it any day,--or so he tells me. I had rather go into that little
cottage where every board I trod on would be my own, than live in the
grandest room you could give me in a house of which I would not be the
mistress."

"But if I make a home fo