e a very accurate description of
her, Rose. It would perhaps be easier if you had ever visited an art
museum, and seen statues of some of the Greek goddesses, for people say
that she looks like one of them. You see she is quite tall for a
woman--almost as tall as I am myself--and ... well, her form and the way
she carries herself is queenly. Then she has hair darker than yours,
and ... her eyes are gray, I guess, although, come to think of it, I
never noticed particularly. She isn't pretty like a wild-flower, but
very beautiful, more like a stately cultivated bloom. When you have seen
conservatory blossoms you will know better what I mean. She is very
serious, too. Even when she is quite happy it is sometimes a bit hard to
tell it, for she seldom really smiles.... I wish she would," he added,
as though to himself, "she has wonderful teeth."

"Oh, she must be very lovely," mused Rose, and added with slight
hesitancy, "I reckon you must love her powerful."

"Yes, of course," Donald answered, and then added, as though a logical
reason for his affection was necessary, "You see, I have known Marion
all her life. She is my sister's closest friend, and almost grew up in
our house."

"I wish I had," said Rose, the note of envy in her voice being
outweighed by the childlike sincerity which her words carried. "What
does she do?"

"Do? Why, I don't know, exactly--what all society girls, with plenty of
money at their disposal, do, I suppose. Of course she has clubs which
she belongs to, and she goes to dances and theatres and ... I think she
is interested in some sort of charity, too." He had an uncomfortable
feeling that he was failing to make out a very strong case for the woman
to whom he was engaged, and at the same time wondering why any
vindication of her should seem necessary, since he had always regarded
her as a bit too perfect, if anything.

"Oh, that is lovely, for the Bible says that the greatest of all is
charity," cried Rose, her eyes sparkling. "And does she go about helping
poor, lonesome city people, and the dear little poor children? It must
be wonderful to have lots of money, so that you can do all sorts of
things to make them happier and better."

"Confound the child," thought Donald, although his exasperation was
directed rather at himself, than at her. "It's positively indecent the
way she gets inside one. Judged by the standards of her class, Marion is
a splendid girl--head and shoulders above the aver