ou're
not the kind to float around town and enjoy it--and you are the kind
that would enjoy the other."

"Oh! I'm having a bully time, Aunt Emily."

"That's not true, Ken. Life lacks salt; you look the need of it and I
blame myself for going abroad."

"I'm glad you went!" fervently said Raymond.

"You are, eh? Well, I'm not going again until you're safely married."

At this Raymond found that he could laugh, and just then the hatchet
fell, for Doctor Martin had entered the arena and Mrs. Tweksbury had
agreed to help.

"Do you remember my speaking of that niece of Miss Fletcher's last
spring?" she asked.

"Yes. I do recall it. Wasn't she to come here--or something like that?"

"Yes, she was, but she isn't. Doris Fletcher has brought her girl up to
town herself and the old house is opened. I called there the other day.
Ken, that girl is the loveliest thing I ever saw!"

"Is she?" Raymond was sitting on the edge of the table in Mrs.
Tweksbury's dressing room. When she got through talking he was going to
bed. He had to stifle a yawn.

"Yes, she is. She's not only the prettiest girl I've seen for many a
year, but she's _the girl_."

"For what?" Raymond swung his lifted foot while he balanced with the
other.

"For you, Ken!" The crash unsettled Raymond and he brought his free foot
to the floor.

"Oh! come," he blurted; "don't begin that sort of rubbish, Aunt Emily. I
thought you were above that."

"I'm not, Ken. I would go slow if I dared, but this girl will be snapped
up before we get in touch with her, unless we act quick."

"Aunt Emily! For heaven's sake, is the girl hanging about open-mouthed
for the first hook tossed to her?"

"No. But, Ken, she is the kind that men want--the kind they hold sacred
in their souls and hardly dare hope ever to see in the flesh. The girl
made me want to grab her. I remember as a child she was charming--she's
a perfect, but very human, woman now."

With this Mrs. Tweksbury dilated upon what Doris had confided of Nancy's
loyal and devoted life.

"You see, Ken," Mrs. Tweksbury ran on, "the girl is like a rare thing
that you cannot debate much about, and once lost, the opportunity will
never come again. I've gone off about her, Ken."

"I should say you had! Will you smoke, Aunt Emily?"

"Yes!"

To see Emily Tweksbury smoke was about as incongruous as to see an
antique remodelled to bring it up to date; but the smoke calmed her.

"You will call with me upon her, won'