in the hope of
permanently extirpating him "Dora" Eweword was anxious to announce his
engagement, but with threats of immediate extermination if he should
so much as give a hint of it, Dawn kept him in abeyance, and
altogether behaved so erratically that Andrew candidly published his
belief that she had gone "ratty."

Ernest proffered himself as our escort to the Walker presentation, but
Eweword having previously secured Dawn, Breslaw had to be satisfied
with my company. I had already presented Andrew with a ticket, and as
I could not now discard him, I resolved to ignore the injunctions to
be found in etiquette books, and accept attentions from two gentlemen
at once. Thus it happened that I, at the despised grey-haired stage,
sat in state with a most attentive cavalier on either hand, while
handsome young ladies sat all alone.

We had entered September, and the early flowers had lifted their heads
on every hand in this valley, where they grew in profusion, and that
evening were in evidence at women's throats, in men's coats, and in
young girls' hair. The stage was a bower of heavenly scented bloom,
and many among the audience held bouquets the size of a broccoli in
readiness for presentation to the guests of the evening.

Ernest was holding the pony, which was restive, while Andrew buckled
her to the sulky, when Dawn came upon the scene after the concert and
presented me with a huge bunch of flowers, and Eweword also got his
nag ready for home-going. Dawn had not met Ernest since the night in
the street, and even now affected not to notice him, so thinking it
time to take the situation by the horns, I said--

"Here is Mr Ernest; you didn't see him because he was standing in the
shade."

Thus encouraged, he came forward and sturdily put out his hand, and
Dawn could not very well fail to observe that, as it was of
substantial build and held where the light shone full on it, so she
was constrained to meet it with her own, and received, as she
afterwards confessed, a lingering and affectionate pressure.

It was not of Ernest, however, but of Mrs Walker that she talked that
night as we prepared for rest, with our washhand basins full of
violets that had been crowded out of the quantity given to the
defeated candidate's wife.

"Fancy being lovely like she is! After looking at her I've given up
all hope. I suppose all I'm fit for is Mrs Eweword--Mrs 'Dora'
Eweword; do my housework in the morning and take one of these