manner an unusual species of admiration. She had feasted her fill on uttered flattery; but here was a good man whose appreciation left compliments far behind. At the end of ten minutes Roger mentioned that she reminded him singularly of a young girl he knew. "A young girl, forsooth," thought Miss Sands. "Is he coming to his fadaises, like the rest of them?"
"You are older than she," Roger added, "but I expect her to look like you some time hence."
"I gladly bequeath her my youth, as I come to give it up."
"You can never have been plain," said Roger. "My friend, just now, is no beauty. But I assure you, you encourage me."
"Tell me about this young lady," his companion rejoined. "It is interesting to hear about people one looks like."
"I should like to tell you," said Roger, "but you would laugh at me."
"You do me injustice. Evidently this is a matter of sentiment. Genuine sentiment is the best thing in the world; and when I catch myself laughing at a mortal who confesses to it, I submit to being told that I have grown old only to grow silly."
Roger smiled approval. "I can only say," he answered, "that this young friend of mine is, to me, the most interesting object in the world."
"In other words, you are engaged to marry her."
"Not a bit of it."
"Why, then, she is a deaf-mute whom you have rendered vocal, or a pretty heathen whom you have brought to Sunday school."
