ir on his head was hung with
a diamond as big as a hazel nut, and he would give them all to me. No, I
thank you."

"Well, then, I would. So there now! Not only if he hadn't a diamond to his
name, but if he hadn't a hair on his head. Poor Le! Poor dear Le! I do
love him so dearly!"

Wynnette had made no vain boast of "bearding the lion." She watched her
opportunity, and on the very first occasion on which she found him alone,
sitting and reading in the drawing room, she--to use her own
expression--"went for him."

She stood right up before the great soldier of India, and astonished him
by addressing him in the very words she had rehearsed to Elva.

Col. Anglesea threw himself back in his chair, and gave way to a peal of
laughter. And when he recovered his breath, patted her on the head and
said, mockingly:

"You will forgive me, and thank Odalite, when you discover that we have
got married on purpose to leave the gallant young middy to you, so that
you shall not be an old maid."

"Thank you, sir. No one shall make a match for me. And since my peaceful
mission to you has failed, I must leave you to be taken in hand by the
gentleman you have robbed. He will call you to a strict account."

So saying, the small young lady threw up her head, and with great dignity
marched out of the room.

Her next effort in the absent lover's cause was with Odalite herself.

She found her eldest sister in their mother's room, where a colored
maidservant was engaged in unpacking a case just arrived from New York,
and carefully extricating from its interior a rich white dress of velvet
and swansdown, garnished with orange blossoms, and which was elaborately
folded, with white tissue paper between every surface.

"Be careful, Net. The veil must be somewhere there," said Mrs. Force, who
was standing over the case, watching the work.

"I reckon it is in this square bandbox at the bottom," suggested the
woman.

"Get it up very carefully, then."

Odalite, sitting back in an easy chair, seemed languid and indifferent to
what was going on before her.

"Is that the wedding dress?" inquired Wynnette, when the elegant structure
was laid out at length upon the bed, the train hanging from the foot far
down on the carpet.

"Yes, that is the wedding dress. What do you think of it? Is it not
beautiful?" inquired Mrs. Force, gazing admiringly on the bridal robes.

"No! I think it is horrid! Perfectly horrid! I wouldn't wear it if I were
O