d a full moustache somewhat darker,--made up the
ensemble of the particular person destined to be the torment of Judge
Owen--and of others. For Frank Wallace, be it understood, had other
penchants besides his attachment to pretty Emily--fun being the other
and leading propensity. He was a capital mimic, an incorrigible
banterer, and in any other company than that of the woman he loved, and
her family, the merriest and most jocular soul alive. Sometimes when
alone with her, and with the "spooniness" which will attach to male
courtship before twenty-five, fairly shaken off, he could be a gay,
dashing and even a presuming lover. Just now he was unamiable--not to
say wicked, and ready for any use of his glib tongue which could send
the blue coat out of the house at "double-quick."

It could not have been malice--it certainly must have been want of
thought--that induced Aunt Martha to break the temporary silence with
the remark, addressed to the Colonel:

"It is a funny question I am going to ask, I know, Colonel, but I
suppose I have an old woman's privilege. Mrs. Owen and myself were
talking about ages a day or two ago, and she thought you were more than
thirty-five. How old _are_ you?"

If half a paper of pins, with all the points upward, had suddenly made
their appearance in the bottom of the Colonel's chair, he probably could
not have been more discomfited. What reason he had to be unquiet, will
be more apparent at a later period. He fidgetted a little and hemmed
more than once, before he replied:

"Humph! hum! Well, Madame, to tell you the truth, I _am_ a little on the
shady side of extreme youth--old enough to be through with my juvenile
indiscretions--ha! ha!" (The laugh decidedly forced and feeble). "I am a
little over thirty-two--was thirty-two in March last."

"I thought so! I was sure you could not be older than that!" said Aunt
Martha, in the most natural way in the world, while Emily took a quick
look round at the Colonel, which said, much plainer than words: "Oh,
what a bouncer!"

"No, Madame," added the Colonel, perhaps aware that fibs require to be
told over at least twice before they acquire the weight of truths told
_once_. "No, Madame, a fraction over thirty-two, as I said."

At that moment the invisible influences, if they have good ears, may
have heard Frank Wallace getting up from his chair, and muttering
between his teeth something very like:

"Humph! well, I cannot stand _this_ any longer! I