“I have given you the information to which you refer, in season for you to make ample preparation for my wife's reception. And, mark me, she must see no sulkiness, no airs of strangeness or intolerance, because I have managed a matter that concerns me chiefly, as seemed to me best. Say the same to Mrs. Sutton, if you please; also that I will submit to no dictation, and ask no advice.” Mabel's anger seldom outlived its utterance. The hot sparkle in her eye was quenched by moisture, as she laid her hand caressingly upon her brother's. “Winston! you cannot suppose that we could be wanting in cordiality to any one whom you love, much less to your wife. Let her come when she may, she will be heartily welcomed by us both. But this has fallen suddenly upon me, and I am a little out of sorts to-day, I believe--excited and nervous--and, O, my darling! my oldest and best of friends! I hope your love will bring to you the happiness you deserve.” The tears had their course, at last, bathing the hand she bowed to kiss. The simple ardor of the outbreak would have affected many men to a show of responsive weakness. Even Winston Aylett's physiognomy was more human and less statuesque, as he patted her head, and bade her be composed. “If you persist in enacting Niobe, I shall believe that you are chagrined at the prospect of having the sister you have repeatedly besought me to give you,” he said, playfully--for him. “You have not asked me her name, and where she lives. What has become of your curiosity? I never knew it to be quiescent before.” “I thought you would tell me whatever it was best for me to know,” replied Mabel, drying her eyes. If she had said that she was too well-trained to assail him with interrogatories he had not invited, it would have been nearer the mark. “There is nothing relating to her which I desire to conceal,” he rejoined, with some stiffness, “or she would never have become my promised wife. She is a Miss Dorrance, the daughter of a widow residing in the vicinity of Boston, Massachusetts. I met her first at Trenton Falls, where a happy accident brought me into association with her party. I travelled with them to the Lakes and among the White Mountains, and, while in Boston, visited her daily. We were betrothed a week ago, and having, as I have observed, an aversion to protracted engagements, I prevailed upon her to appoint the tenth of next mouth as our marriage day. There you have the story in brief. I have not Mrs. Sutton's talents as a raconteur, nor her disposition to turn hearts inside out for the edification of her auditors.” “Does she--Miss Dorrance--look like anybody I know?” asked Mabel, hesitating to declare herself dissatisfied with the skeleton love-tale, yet uncertain how to learn more. “A roundabout way of asking if she is passable in appearance,” Winston said, with his smile of conscious superiority. “Judge for yourself!” taking from his pocket a miniature.