d aside O censorious reader, (I desire not thy
acquaintance,) while I whisper to both maid and widow, what, probably,
they have often pondered--that life is short, and that in Heaven they
neither marry nor are given in marriage.

"Bless thy sweet face!" said the dame. ("Pull down the stomacher a
little, Prudence; an' it had been a thought longer it were better.)
Ne'er saw I so lovely a bride."

"It is the latest London fashion," muttered Prudence, "that hath come
to these outlandish parts, where, thank the Lord, our stay will not be
much longer than the stomacher."

"What is the girl chattering about?" said the dame. "Why, Prudence
Pert, thou wilt tear the beautiful satin with thine impatience."

"You have already made me prick my fingers three times, dame,"
answered the waiting-maid, pettishly. "I never could dress my young
lady aright, when I was talked to. There! O dear! you have made me cut
a ribbon in the wrong place!"

"Did ever one see the like!" exclaimed the widow, as, with a jerk of
the petulant Prudence, a few stitches now gave way. "Why, minx, thou
art as much flustrated as if thou wert to be married thyself."

"I know somebody, I guess," said the girl, in so low a tone as to be
heard only by her mistress, close to whose ear was her mouth, "who
would like to be flustrated in that manner."

Eveline could not restrain her smiles at the impertinence of her maid,
and her gaiety seemed to please the good dame.

"Thou art a sensible child, Eveline," she said. "Now have I known many
a wedding, and generally there are quite as many tears as smiles at
them. I like not that, exactly, though I believe I was as great a
simpleton as most, when I mar--(here the dame decorously put her
handkerchief to her eyes to receive the tears which she did not
shed)--when I--; but I must not think of my sorrow, when thy happiness
is just commencing." (Dame Spikeman wiped her eyes, and went on more
composedly.) "There is nothing thou hast cause to fear, and thou wilt
soon get used to it. But, who is to be thy bridesmaid?"

"It was my intent to have had little Neebin," replied the young lady.
"It would have sounded so prettily in England to say that an Indian
Princess stood up with me, for Miles says that she is the sister of a
great king--of Waqua--; thou dost recollect him, Prudence?"

"The funny salvage," said the girl, "who mistook a painting for a live
man. But to think of the like of the sister of an Indian, though he b