withered hand. She loved the destroyer of her peace with the pent-up
energies of forty years.

CHAPTER II.

MIDDLE-AGED CUPID.

Being in ignorance of Tiffles's sudden fortune, she was at a loss how to
explain his defection. She conjectured all things, and finally settled
down to the conclusion that he was a coy young man, and had not been
sufficiently encouraged by her. She remembered instances where he had
exhibited signs of ardor--in one case so far as beginning to slip a hand
around her waist--and she had repelled him. He was evidently waiting for
some marked encouragement. How foolishly prudish she had been!

One evening, as Wesley Tiffles was passing through the hall to the door,
after a rattling hour with the three bachelors, he was confronted by
Miss Wilkeson, who chanced to leave the front parlor on a journey up
stairs at that moment. She was dressed in a light silk, and her hair was
carefully braided, and her face had a pink color in some parts, which
contrasted well with the pallor in other parts; and her glass had told
her that she was looking uncommonly youthful and charming. She had
carefully studied her part, which was to be a bold one, throwing off
all reserve.

"Good evening, Mr. Tiffles," said she, promptly offering her hand.

He took it with unsqueezing indifference. She had expected that.

"Mr. Tiffles," said she, with an air of youthful raillery, "you are a
naughty man, and I had an idea of not speaking to you again."

"Naughty!" said Tiffles, astonished. "How?"

"Why, you have hardly been civil to me, of late. I do believe you
wouldn't speak, or shake hands with me, if I didn't always set the
example." This in a half-complaining, half-laughing way.

It suddenly flashed upon Tiffles that he had been, for some time,
rather neglectful of the lady. It also forcibly occurred to him that it
was wise policy to be on good terms, at all times, with the mistress of
the house; and such was Miss Wilkeson's present position. He therefore
clutched her hand again, gave it a faint squeeze, and said that he
apologized a million times for his rudeness; but the fact was, he had so
much business on hand, that he had been turned into a perfect bear, he
supposed. He playfully challenged Miss Wilkeson to step into the parlor
and take a glass of wine, and he would show her that he was not the
brute she fancied.

Miss Wilkeson laughingly accepted the challenge. "But I do believe," she
added, "that it is onl