unning up to the
door. I supposed she had come with a message from her sister, and went
down, thinking to be detained about ten minutes.

It seems but a few years ago since Pet was in the kindergarten. I was
surprised to see that she wore her dresses very long, and that she looked
almost grown up.

"My dear Pet," I exclaimed, "what is the matter?"

"Oh, Miss Ruth, I am in such a scrape," she answered me. "I hope you won't
think it's queer that I came to you, but the fact is, I've watched you in
church, and you always look as if you knew, and would help people if they
would ask you to; so I thought I'd try you.

"Ever and ever so long ago, when I was a little bit of a thing, and played
with other children, and you and sister Grace went out together, I used to
'choose' you from all the other young ladies, because you wore such lovely
hats, and always had on pearl-colored gloves. I suppose it is so long ago
that you were a young lady and had beaux that you've forgotten it. But I
know you used to have lovers, for I heard Mrs. Herrick and Mrs. Payson
Osborne talking about you once, and Mrs. Herrick said you seemed so
tranquil and contented that she supposed you never had had any really good
offers, or you would be all the time wishing you had taken one. And Mrs.
Osborne spoke up in her quick way, and said, 'Don't deceive yourself so
comfortably, my dear Flossy. I know positively that Ruth has had several
offers that you and I would have jumped at.' And then she turned away and
laughed and laughed, although I didn't see anything so very funny in what
she said, and neither did Mrs. Herrick.

"I do think Mrs. Osborne is the loveliest person I know. She is my ideal
young married woman. She always has a smile and a pretty word for every
one, and young men like her better than they do the buds. Why, your face
is as red as fire. I hope I haven't said anything unpleasant. Mamma says I
blunder horribly, but she always is too busy to tell me how not to
blunder.

"Now, I want to know which of these two men you would advise me to marry.
I've got to take one, I suppose."

"Marry!" I exclaimed, so explosively that Pet started. "Why, child, how
old are you?"

"I'm nineteen," she said, in rather an injured tone, "and I've always made
up my mind to marry young, if I got a good enough offer. I hate old maids.
Oh, excuse me. I don't mean you, of course. I wouldn't marry a clerk, you
understand, just to be marrying. I'm not so silly. I