southern figure, slender but
strong, which makes perhaps the best representative of our American
beauty. She was very bravely arrayed to-day in her best pink-flowered
lawn, made wide and full, as was the custom of the time, but not so
clumsily gathered at the waist as some, and so serving not wholly to
conceal her natural comeliness of figure. Her bonnet she had removed. I
could see the sunlight on the ripples of her brown hair, and the shadows
which lay above her eyes as she turned to face me, and the slow pink
which crept into her cheeks.

Dignified always, and reserved, was Elisabeth Churchill. But now I hope
it was not wholly conceit which led me to feel that perhaps the warmth,
the glow of the air, caught while riding under the open sky, the sight
of the many budding roses of our city, the scent of the blossoms which
even then came through the lattice--the meeting even with myself, so
lately returned--something at least of this had caused an awakening in
her girl's heart. Something, I say, I do not know what, gave her
greeting to me more warmth than was usual with her. My own heart, eager
enough to break bounds, answered in kind. We stood--blushing like
children as our hands touched--forgotten in that assemblage of
Washington's pomp and circumstance.

"How do you do?" was all I could find to say. And "How do you do?" was
all I could catch for answer, although I saw, in a fleeting way, a
glimpse of a dimple hid in Elisabeth's cheek. She never showed it save
when pleased. I have never seen a dimple like that of Elisabeth's.

Absorbed, we almost forgot Aunt Betty Jennings--stout, radiant,
snub-nosed, arch-browed and curious, Elisabeth's chaperon. On the whole,
I was glad Aunt Betty Jennings was there. When a soldier approaches a
point of danger, he does not despise the cover of natural objects. Aunt
Betty appeared to me simply as a natural object at the time. I sought
her shelter.

"Aunt Betty," said I, as I took her hand; "Aunt Betty, have we told you,
Elisabeth and I?"

I saw Elisabeth straighten in perplexity, doubt or horror, but I went
on.

"Yes, Elisabeth and I--"

"You _dear_ children!" gurgled Aunt Betty.

"Congratulate us both!" I demanded, and I put Elisabeth's hand, covered
with my own, into the short and chubby fingers of that estimable lady.
Whenever Elisabeth attempted to open her lips I opened mine before, and
I so overwhelmed dear Aunt Betty Jennings with protestations of my
regard for her,