book says, 'First catch your hare.'"

"Must you catch your wife?"

"I suppose so."

"How do you catch her?"

But the answer to this most serious inquiry was met by such a burst of
laughter on the part of both the older persons in the room, that Phil
had to wait; nothing daunted, however, returned to the charge.

"Uncle Phil, if you had a wife, what would her name be?"

"If ever I have one, Chauncey, her name will be--"

But here the speaker had very nearly, in his abstraction, brought out a
name that would, to say the least, have astonished his sister. He
caught himself up just in time, and laughed.

"If ever I have one, her name will be mine."

"I did not know, last night, but you had chosen the lady to whom you
intended to do so much honour," his sister observed coolly, looking at
him across her chocolate cup.

"Or who I hoped would do me so much honour. What did you think of my
supposed choice?" he asked with equal coolness.

"What could I think, except that you were like all other
men--distraught for a pretty face."

"One might do worse," observed Philip, in the same tone, while that of
his sister grew warmer.

"Some men,--but not you, Philip?"

"What distinguishes me from the mass?"

"You are too old to be made a fool of."

"Old enough to be wise, certainly."

"And you are too fastidious to be satisfied with anything short of
perfection; and then you fill too high a position in the world to marry
a girl who is nobody."

"So?"--said Philip, using, which it always vexed his sister to have him
do, the half questioning, half admiring, wholly unattackable German
expression. "Then the person alluded to seemed to you something short
of perfection?"

"She is handsome," returned his sister; "she has a very handsome face;
anybody can see that; but that does not make her your equal."

"Humph!--You suppose I can find that rare bird, my equal, do you?"

"Not there."

"What's the matter with her?"

"She is simply nobody."

"Seems to say a good deal," responded Philip. "I do not know just
_what_ it says."

"You know as well as I do! And she is unformed; unused to all the ways
of the world; a mere novice in society."

"Part of that is soon mended," said Philip easily. "I heard your uncle,
or Burrage's uncle, old Colonel Chauncey, last night declaring that
there is not a girl in the city that has such manners as one of the
Miss Lothrops; manners of 'mingled grace and dignity,' he said."

"That