“Patsey declares he is in some prison, and I don’t doubt but that she is right,” said Lettice, lifting the cover of her bandbox to see if her best hat were safely inside. “I hope, then, he is not in that dreadful Dartmoor Prison,” said Betty. “I declare, Lettice, I forgot to ask Aunt Martha about Mr. Clinton. I wonder where he is?” Lettice gave her head a little toss. “It needn’t concern us where he is.” “You’re well off with the old love, aren’t you, dear?” Betty said. “And as for the new, I’ll warrant the way to Washington will not seem very long with him as escort. Yet, I don’t see, with all the fine fellows here in Baltimore, why you couldn’t have chosen one nearer home. You are bound to be a Yankee, at all hazards, it seems.” Lettice laughed. “I haven’t chosen any one, Sister Betty, and it is all very silly to take it for granted. Why, honey, I may have a dozen fancies yet.” “I don’t believe it. You and Ellicott Baldwin are cut out for each other, I must say, though I oughtn’t to, you little monkey, for I don’t want you to leave your own state, and go live up there. However will you manage to subsist on baked beans, I don’t know.” “Goosey! Am I such a poor stick that I can’t cook what I like? And, besides, I could take one of our own servants with me,--Speery, for instance,--and teach her.” Betty, who was sitting on the floor, hugged her knees and rocked back and forth in glee. “So it’s all settled, is it? How many times have you seen him, Lettice?” Lettice blushed furiously. “Nothing is settled with anybody anywhere, silly girl. I only meant that if I ever did have to live in New England, that my home training would prevent me from starving, if I should chance not to like Yankee dishes. That is all.” “Of course it is all, Miss Innocence. Let me see; when I was your age, I had been engaged to William a year, and had all my wedding clothes ready. I shall expect an announcement when you get back from Washington.” “It looks like you do want to be rid of me, after all. Do you suppose I want to marry a man who would be at sea half his time, and who would leave me to mourn at home while he was off, nobody knows where? No; give me one of our own domestic swains, I say.” “It’s all very well to talk,” Betty returned, “but you’ll be a Yankee yet.” At which Lettice made a face at her, and, having finished her packing, declared that she was tired to death, and that she did miss Lutie more than ever. “Lutie loved to pack. She would rather have the chance to handle my gowns than to eat, and that’s saying a good deal. Poor Lutie!” Lettice sighed.