he was such a dear,” she added, her eyes filling with quick, impulsive tears. “But how you make out my chances will be better now, mamma, I can’t see, really, — I look such a fright.”

“Chances for what?” asked David, dryly.

“For matrimony — naturally,” his sister flung out defiantly, half smiling through her tears. “Don’t you know that’s all a girl of my age lives for — matrimony and a kennel? I mean to have one, now we will have our own preserves. It will be ripping, you know.”

“Certainly, our own preserves,” said David, still dryly, thinking how Cassandra would wonder what preserves were, and what she would say if told that in preserves, wild harmless