el any very particular solicitude.
Myrtle had evidently found out that she was handsome and stylish and all
that, and it was not very likely she would take up with such a bashful,
humble, country youth as this. He could expect nothing beyond a possible
rectorate in the remote distance, with one of those little shingle
chapels to preach in, which, if it were set up on a stout pole, would
pass for a good-sized martin-house. Cyprian might do to practise on, but
there was no danger of her looking at him in a serious way. As for that
youth, Clement Lindsay, if he had not taken himself off as he did,
Murray Bradshaw confessed to himself that he should have felt uneasy. He
was too good-looking, and too clever a young fellow to have knocking
about among fragile susceptibilities. But on reflection he saw there
could be no danger.

"All up with him,--poor diavolo! Can't understand it--such a little
sixpenny miss--pretty enough boiled parsnip blonde, if one likes that
sort of thing--pleases some of the old boys, apparently. Look out, Mr.
L.--remember Susanna and the Elders. Good!

"Safe enough if something new doesn't turn up. Youngish. Sixteen's a
little early. Seventeen will do. Marry a girl while she's in the
gristle, and you can shape her bones for her. Splendid creature--without
her trimmings. Wants training. Must learn to dance, and sing something
besides psalm-tunes."

Mr. Bradshaw began humming the hymn, "When I can read my title clear,"
adding some variations of his own. "That's the solo for my _prima
donna_!"

In the mean time Myrtle seemed to be showing some new developments. One
would have said that the instincts of the coquette, or at least of the
city belle, were coming uppermost in her nature. Her little nervous
attack passed away, and she gained strength and beauty every day. She
was becoming conscious of her gifts of fascination, and seemed to please
herself with the homage of her rustic admirers. Why was it that no one
of them had the look and bearing of that young man she had seen but a
moment the other evening? To think that he should have taken up with
such a weakling as Susan Posey! She sighed, and not so much thought as
felt how kind it would have been in Heaven to have made her such a man.
But the image of the delicate blonde stood between her and all serious
thought of Clement Lindsay. She saw the wedding in the distance, and
very foolishly thought to herself that she could not and would not go to
it.