fashion, and grandma offered humorous original remarks, and altogether Miss Grosvenor was in a state of ecstasy over everything and everybody.

Towards sunset the two girls had a walk, and conversed till they felt like old acquaintances; not that they touched upon private matters, but they discussed books, and aired their theories, and each secretly pronounced the other a new revelation in the way of youthful womankind.

When twilight deepened, they returned home and sat in the porch, and watched the moon rise, meditating and dreaming in their respective fashions.

Suddenly Miss Grosvenor saw a young man approaching. A screen of wisteria hid her from view, but Phillis had established herself on the veranda steps.

"One of the youthful farmers of the neighborhood-what a giant! The descendants of the sons of Anak must inhabit this region, if he is a fair specimen," thought Georgia, regarding the new-comer, who sauntered leisurely along the path as yet unnoticed by Phillis, deeply engrossed with her white kitten.

A man over six feet in height, loosely put together, and not even possessing a handsome face to redeem his other imperfections. He wore a gray flannel suit, and a rather battered straw hat; in fact, the only thing in his favor was the scrupulous whiteness of his linen.

"So your town lady did not arrive, Miss Phillis ?" he called. "No doubt she changed her mind at the last minute: that proves she was some whimsical, fashionable young woman, instead of a female doctor, as we decided her to be."

P. French glanced round with one of her wickedest smiles, as the close of the visitor's speech brought him near the steps.

"Miss Georgia Grosvenor, please answer for yourself," said she. "Mr. Bourke wants to know what your profession is. I warned you this was a suspicious neighborhood."

The visitor perceived the lady addressed; he turned all the colors of the rainbow, and looked so unutterably dazed that Georgia, far from pitying his distress, despised the mammoth for being so shy and awkward.

"I beg pardon," he stammered. "I thought-I understood

"Oh, no, you didn't understood,' that's evident," interrupted Phillis. "But never mind, you are not going to be eaten; so please don't look so much as if you had been hastily roasted and served underdone."

Georgia could not help laughing; rather to her surprise, the young man laughed as heartily as she, and, though he was still scarlet, he regarded her boldly in the face.

“If I try for excuse I shall only make matters worse," he said, so I'd better say what I came for and be done."

"Not to arrest me, I hope," Miss Grosvenor said, pleasantly, though conscious of a certain condescending ring in her voice. "Not this time," he answered; and at first she was pleased to see he could enter into a jest, and then inclined to consider his speech in the light of a liberty.

"And what did you want, Hop-o'-my-thumb?" asked P. French, still playing with her cat.

"I've had to write another letter to Germany. I just wished you to make sure it is understandable Teutonic."

A young farmer writing letters in German. Miss Grosvenor waxed undemocratic, and ready to sneer at the idea, though, with delightful inconsistency, it did not occur to her to disapprove of the ability of a female farmer to correct his epistle.

"Stand and deliver!" said P. French, and he handed her the letter, just managing to drop it, then to stumble over the skirt of her gown and hurt the cat in regaining his balance. "Sit down before you annihilate somebody, pygmy," she added. "Don't stir when I'm gone. I've a book I want to give you."

She disappeared into the house. The visitor seated himself on the steps, and twisted his battered straw hat about in his hands, by way of finding "a countenance," Miss Grosvenor concluded. See had been idly engaged in braiding a quantity of May roses into a wreath, and she still continued her occupation, rapidly deciding in her own mind that it could not be her duty to entertain P. French's guest. He sat so quiet that at length she glanced up from her task and saw his eyes intently fixed upon her. He proceeded immediately to color like a raw schoolboy, but all the same he looked at her courageously enough.

"I was trying to think of something to say," he observed,

"and every idea that came into my head was a question, and P. French declares it is not polite to ask questions."

Georgia was offended again; she had decided that P. French should be her own special manner of addressing her new acquaintance, and she disapproved sorely of this second liberty on the part of the Anakim.

"Miss French's remarks seem characterized by great sound sense," she replied.

"I believe you!" he exclaimed, and grew more awkward than ever, but added, in a composed voice, oddly at variance with his appearance, "I suppose slang isn't good manners either."

"I suppose not. I have had very slight experience in it, however," returned Georgia, and then remembered that to take the trouble to be annoyed with this unlicked cub was paying him more attention than suited his position or her dignity.

"Haven't you ?" he asked. "You've missed a good deal. And I thought American girls liked slang."

Really, this young man, with a battered straw hat, and this odd mixture of shyness and assurance, was an excessively disagreeable person. Miss Grosvenor braided industriously at her wreath, and did not respond.

"Was that impolite too?" he inquired, presently, in a tone which sounded as if he had been studying the matter and found himself unable to resolve his doubts.

"It was a somewhat peculiar speech for an American to make," she said. "I have occasionally seen such statements in foreign journals."

"There was where I found it," returned he. "I've two others that I haven't read yet. I'll go home and burn them before they corrupt my morals still more—no, I mean my

"I think I will advise you to," she said, so gravely that, after glancing keenly at her, he rushed into a fit of awkwardness and blushing which far surpassed his former efforts.

Neither spoke again; Miss Grosvenor braided steadily on; Mr. Bourke maltreated his hat, while his ears grew each instant redder, till they positively resembled two signal-lights; yet when Georgia glanced at him again he was still fixedly regarding her, and she fancied that he looked not only obsti

nate, but disapproving. Certainly in the whole course of her life she had never encountered so inexplicable a phenomenon, such a bundle of contrasts, as this very unpleasant acquaintance of P. French's.

Just then that young lady appeared, calling,—

"Here is the book, Hop-o'-my-thumb! Don't lose yourself and it under a cabbage leaf before you get home." "I'll try not to," he answered, rising. "Can't I say a

word to grandma before I go?"

"Hum!" she said, doubtfully. "I don't know about having grandma's head unsettled by the attentions of giddy young men. Well, come into the kitchen: she is there polishing her knitting-needles with coal-ashes. I must hear what you say: I've my duty to perform by grandma, and I'll do it till she hates me."

She moved towards the door; the giant followed a few steps, then, suddenly recollecting himself, turned back to Miss Grosvenor, and bowed, saying,

"Good-night, Miss George."

Phillis burst out laughing.

"What have I done wrong now?" he asked, with a rueful face.

"Called her by her Christian name, and even cut off a syllable of that," cried Phillis, in malicious glee.

"Bless my soul!" he fairly groaned, "I'm sure I thought you called her so !"

"I

"I called her Miss Georgia Grosvenor. You were falling over the cat, and only heard half her name," said Phillis. should think you would do well to beg her pardon."

Looking up at him, prepared to say something which might relieve his confusion, Miss Grosvenor saw the hopelessly obstinate expression she had already remarked settle over his face.

"She knows I didn't mean to be rude," said he, doggedly; then he joined in Phillis's laughter, and added, in a boyish way, "At least I hope so. I beg your pardon, Miss Gros

venor."

Then he hurried into the passage, and Phillis followed. Presently Georgia saw the pair straying down one of the garden paths, talking very earnestly. Phillis's playful animation was quite gone; she seemed strenuously insisting upon some

thing, and he appeared to be arguing the point. The two passed on, and were hidden from Miss Grosvenor's sight by a clump of lilac-bushes.

"It is too bad," thought she, "to think of a girl like that being thrown away on such a great, coarse country lout. Just the effect of propinquity, nothing else. He can no more appreciate her than I could tell the difference between wheat and rye. Positively it would be a charitable work to turn his head a bit, and so open her eyes. Why, it is worse than Beauty and the Beast; it is Titania and Bottom."

All of which was as exaggerated and unjust as possible; but Georgia Grosvenor often erred in that way when her prejudices were roused,-prejudices as strong as they were unreasonable. After a while her hostess returned, singing in a half voice a sweet old Irish melody, looking pretty and fairylike enough to justify Miss Grosvenor's comparison so far as she was concerned.

"And what do you think of my neighbor?" she asked, as she reached the steps.

"I was busy with my flowers: I believe I had not thought," Miss Grosvenor answered.

"Bless me!" exclaimed Phillis. "Not to be impolite to the stranger within my gates, permit me to remark that you speak very much as I do when I tell a fib.'

"I hope I am not above the weaknesses of my sex," said Miss Grosvenor, laughing.

"And what do you think of my neighbor?" repeated Phillis. "You asked what P. stood for: pertinacious, among other things! So you may as well speak, because I'll have an answer, if we stop here till midnight."

"Are you

"I think he is the awkwardest, ugliest, monstrousest creature I ever encountered," cried Miss Grosvenor. satisfied now?"

"Perfectly," replied Phillis, in a delighted tone. admire the violin ?"

Why, of course."

"Do you

"So does he, and plays it like an angel. Do you excel in needlework?"

"Goodness! no."

"Neither does he. Can you speak seven languages?" "Thanks to my laziness, I cannot."