ose to him, and with her own white fingers
places the rose in the old gentleman's coat; while he stands as
infatuated by her grace and beauty as though he still could call
himself twenty-four with a clear conscience, and had no buxom partner
at home ready to devour him at a moment's notice.

Oh, lucky, sweetly-perfumed, pale white rose! Oh, fortunate, kindly,
tender manner! You little guess your influence over the future.

Old Mr. Amherst, who has been watching Molly from afar, now comes
grumbling toward her and leads Mr. Buscarlet away.

"Grandpa is in a bad temper," says Marcia, generally, when they have
quite gone.

"No, you don't say so? What a remarkable occurrence!" exclaims Cecil.
"Now, what _can_ have happened to ruffle so serene a nature as
his?"

"I didn't notice it; I was making a fresh and more lengthened
examination of his features. Yet, I still adhere to my original
conviction: his nose is his strong point." Mr. Potts says this as one
would who had given to the subject years of mature study.

"It _is_ thin," says Lady Stafford.

"It is. Considering his antiquity, his features are really quite
handsome. But his nose--his nose," says Mr. Potts, "is especially fine.
That's a joke: do you see it? Fine! Why, it is sharper than an awl.
'Score two on the shovel for that, Mary Ann.'"

For want of something better to do, they all laugh at Mr. Potts's
rather lame sally. Even Mr. Longshanks so far forgets himself and his
allegiance to his friend as to say "Ha-ha-ha!" out loud--a proceeding
so totally unexpected on the part of Longshanks that they all laugh
again, this time the more heartily that they cannot well explain the
cause of their merriment.

Captain Mottie is justly vexed. The friend of his soul has turned
traitor, and actually expended a valuable laugh upon an outsider.

Mrs. Darley, seeing his vexation, says, quietly, "I do not think it is
good form, or even kind, to speak so of poor Mr. Amherst behind his
back. I cannot bear to hear him abused."

"It is only his nose, dear," says Cecil; "and even you cannot call it
fat without belying your conscience."

Mrs. Darley accepts the apology, and goes back to her mild flirtation.

"How silly that woman is!" Cecil says, somewhat indignantly. She and
Molly and one or two of the men are rather apart. "To hear her going in
for simple sentiments is quite too much for me. When one looks at her,
one cannot help----" She pauses, and taps her foot upon th