by asking if we were
admiring pretty Annie Mortimer--following the direction of our looks.
On receiving a reply in the affirmative, she continued: 'Ah, she's a
good, affectionate girl; a great favourite of mine is sweet Annie
Mortimer.'

'Watching for her lover, no doubt?' we ventured to say, hoping to gain
the desired information, and thinking of our white kid-gloves. 'She is
an engaged young lady?'

'Engaged! engaged!' cried the little animated lady: 'no indeed. The
fates forbid! Annie Mortimer is not engaged.' The expression of the
little lady's countenance at our bare supposition of so natural a
fact, amounted almost to the ludicrous; and we with some difficulty
articulated a serious rejoinder, disavowing all previous knowledge,
and therefore erring through ignorance. We had now time to examine our
new acquaintance more critically. As we have already stated, she was
habited in gray; but not only was her attire gray, but she was
literally gray all over: gray hairs, braided in a peculiar obsolete
fashion, and quite uncovered; gray gloves; gray shoes; and, above all,
gray eyes, soft, large, and peculiarly sad in expression, yet
beautiful eyes, redeeming the gray, monotonous countenance from
absolute plainness. Mary Queen of Scots, we are told, had gray eyes;
and even she, poor lady, owned not more speaking or history-telling
orbs than did this little unknown gossip in gray. But our attention
was diverted from the contemplation, by the entrance of another actor
on the stage, to whom Annie Mortimer darted forward with an
exclamation of delight and welcome. The new-comer was a slender,
elderly gentleman, whose white hairs, pale face, and benignant
expression presented nothing remarkable in their aspect, beyond a
certain air of elegance and refinement, which characterised the whole
outward man.

'That is a charming-looking old gentleman,' said we to the gray lady;
'is he Annie's father?'

'Her father! O dear, no! That gentleman is a bachelor; but he is
Annie's guardian, and has supplied the place of a father to her, for
poor Annie is an orphan.'

'Oh!' we exclaimed, and there was a great deal of meaning in our oh!
for had we not read and heard of youthful wards falling in love with
their guardians? and might not the fair Annie's taste incline this
way? The little gray lady understood our thoughts, for she smiled, but
said nothing; and while we were absorbed with Annie and her supposed
antiquated lover, she glided i