" Serious!—ha! ha! ha!" said the little beauty, seating herself on one arm of the sofa, and shaking the glittering hat back from her eyes. " Well, I fancy it was—to him, at least. I made him serious, I can tell you!"
"But, is this true, Miss Nina? Are you really engaged?"
"Yes, to be sure I am—to three gentlemen; and going to stay so till I find which I like best. May be you know I shan't like any of them."
"Engaged to three gentlemen, Miss Nina?"
"To be sure!—Can't you understand English, Harry? I am now—fact."
"Miss Nina, is that right ?"
"Right?—why not? I don't know which to take—I positively don't; so I took them all on trial, you know."
"Pray, Miss Nina, tell us who they are."
"Well, there's Mr. Carson;—he's a rich old bachelor—horridly polite—one of those little, bobbing men, that always have such shiny dickies and collars, and such bright boots, and such tight straps. And he 's rich—and perfectly wild about me. He wouldn't take no for an answer, you know; so I just said yes, to have a little quiet. Besides, he is very convenient about the opera and concerts, and such things."
"Well, and the next?"
"Well, the next is George Emmons. He's one of your pink-and-white men, you know, who look like cream-candy, as if they were good to eat. He's a lawyer, of a good family,—thought a good deal of, and all that. Well, really, they say he has talents—I'm no judge. I know he always bores me to death; asking me if I have read this or that—marking places in books that I never read. He's your sentimental sort—writes the most romantic notes on pink paper, and all that sort of thing."
"And the third?"
"Well, you see, I don't like him a bit—I'm sure I don't. He 's a hateful creature! He isn't handsome; he's
