t mind knowing
the occupants of the pony carriage. It was a great concession, and was
rewarded duly. A bright, handsome boy of seventeen, Miss Thurston's
brother, came to pass a few days at the seaside, and fraternized with
everybody, but was especially delighted with Ned Salsbury, who took him
out sailing and shooting, and, I am afraid, gave him cigars stealthily,
when out of range of Miss Thurston's fine eyes. The result was that the
first time the lad walked on the beach with the two girls and met the
young man, introductions of an enthusiastic nature were instantly sprung
upon them. An attempt at conversation followed.

"How do you like Brant Beach?" asked Ned.

"Oh, it is a very pretty place," said Miss Chapman, "but not lively
enough."

"Well, Burnham and I find it pleasant; aw, we have lots of fun."

"Indeed! Why, what do you do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Everything."

"Is the shooting good? I saw you with your guns yesterday."

"Well, there isn't a great deal of game. There is some fishing, but we
haven't caught much."

"How do you kill time, then?"

Salsbury looked puzzled.

"Aw--it is a first-rate air, you know. The table is good, and you can
sleep like a top. And then, you see, I like to smoke around, and do
nothing, on the sea-shore. It is real jolly to lie on the sand, aw, with
all sorts of little bugs running over you, and listen to the water
swashing about!"

"Let's try it!" cried vivacious Miss Chapman; and down she sat on the
sand. The others followed her example, and in five minutes they were
picking up pretty pebbles and chatting away as sociably as could be. The
rumbling of the warning gong surprised them.

At dinner Burnham and Salsbury took seats opposite the ladies, and were
honored with an introduction to papa and mamma, a very dignified, heavy,
rosy, old-school couple, who ate a good deal and said very little. That
evening, when flute and viol wooed the lotos-eaters to agitate the light
fantastic toe, these young gentlemen found themselves in dancing humor,
and revolved themselves into a grievous condition of glow and wilt in
various mystic and intoxicating measures with their new-made friends.

On retiring, somewhat after midnight, Miss Thurston paused while "doing
her hair," and addressed Miss Chapman.

"Did you observe, Hattie, how very handsome those gentlemen are? Mr.
Burnham looks like a prince of the _sang azur_, and Mr. Salsbury like
his poet-laureate."

"Yes, dear," respo