"What makes you so restless, Pauline? Why don't you sit still?"

asked Beulah, observing that her visitor twisted about as if

uncomfortable.

"Because I want to tell you something, and really do not know how to

begin," said she, laughing and blushing.

"I cannot imagine what should disconcert you, Pauline."

"Thank you. Truly, that is a flattering tribute to my sensibility.

Beulah, can't you guess what I have to tell you?"

"Certainly not. But why should you hesitate to disclose it?"

"Simply because your tremendous gray eyes have such an owlish way of

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looking people out of countenance. Now, don't look quite through me,

and I will pluck up my courage, and confess. Beulah--I am going to

be married soon." She hid her crimsoned cheeks behind her hands.

"Married! impossible!" cried Beulah.

"But I tell you I am! Here is my engagement ring. Now, the most

astonishing part of the whole affair is that my intended sovereign

is a minister! A preacher, as solemn as Job!"

"You a minister's wife, Pauline! Oh, child, you are jesting!" said

Beulah, with an incredulous smile.

"No! absurd as it may seem, it is nevertheless true. I am to be

married in March. Ma says I am a fool; Mr. Lockhart encourages and

supports me; and Uncle Guy laughs heartily every time the affair is

alluded to. At first, before we went to Europe, there was violent

opposition from my mother, but she found I was in earnest, and now

it is all settled for March. Uncle Guy knows Ernest Mortimor, and

esteems him very highly, but thinks that I am the last woman in the

United States who ought to be a minister's wife. I believe he told

Ernest as much; but of course he did not believe him."

"Where does Mr. Mortimor reside?"

"In Georgia; has charge of a church there. He had a sister at the

same school I attended in New York; and, during a visit to her, he

says he met his evil-angel in me. He is about five years my senior;

but he is here now, and you will have an opportunity of forming your

own opinion of him."

"How long have you known him?"

"About two years. I am rather afraid of him, to tell you the honest

truth. He is so grave, and has such rigid notions, that I wonder

very much what ever induced his holiness to fancy such a heedless

piece of womanhood as he is obliged to know I am; for I never put on

any humility or sanctity. What do you think, Beulah? Uncle Guy

coolly told me, this morning, in Ernest's presence, that he was only

charmed by my pretty face, and that if I did not learn some common

sense he would very soon repent his choice. Oh, the doleful warnings

I have been favored with! But you shall all see that I am worthy of

Mr. Mortimer's love."