d was serving with the army of occupation in the Netherlands--
was very busily spinning; Lucrece--a graceful maiden of twenty-two, not
strictly handsome, but possessed of an indescribable fascination which
charmed all who saw her--sat with her eyes bent down on her embroidery;
Clare--seventeen, gentle, and unobtrusive--was engaged in plain sewing;
and Blanche,--well, what was Blanche doing? She sat in the deep
window-seat, her lap full of spring flowers, idly taking up now one, and
now another,--weaving a few together as if she meant to make a wreath,--
then suddenly abandoning the idea and gathering them into a nosegay,--
then throwing that aside and dreamily plunging both hands into the
fragrant mass. Blanche had developed into a very pretty picture,--
lovelier than Lady Enville, whom she resembled in feature.

"Blanche!" said her aunt suddenly.

Blanche looked up as if startled. Rachel had changed little. Time had
stiffened, not softened, both her grogram and her prejudices.

"What dost thou?" she demanded.

"Oh! I--well--I know not what I did, Aunt Rachel. I was thinking, I
reckon."

"And where were thy thoughts?" was the next searching query.

Blanche smelt at her flowers, coloured, laughed, and ended by saying
lightly, "I scantly know, Aunt."

"Then the sooner thou callest them to order, the better. She must needs
be an idle jade that wits not whereof she thinketh."

"Well, if you must needs know, Aunt Rachel," said Blanche, laughing
again, and just a trifle saucily, "I thought about--being wed."

"Fie for shame!" was the prompt comment on this confession. "What hast
thou to do withal, till thy father and mother bid thee?"

"Why, that is even what I thought, Aunt Rachel," said Blanche coolly,
"and I would I had more to do withal. I would fain choose mine own
servant." [Suitor.]

"Thou!--Poor babe!" was the contemptuous rejoinder.

"Well, Aunt Rachel, you wot a woman must be wed."

"That's a man's notion!" said Rachel in her severest manner. "Blanche,
I do marvel greatly that thou hast not more womanfulness than so. A
woman must be wed, quotha! Who saith it? Some selfish man, I warrant,
that thought women were create into the world for none other cause but
to be his serving-maids!"

"I am sure I know not wherefore we were create," muttered Blanche, loud
enough for her sisters to hear but not her Aunt.

Rachel stopped her carding. She saw a first-rate opening for a lecture,
and on he