childhood to girlhood, the virgin falters, as it were, with bashful thoughts, upon the threshold of a new and perilous condition. The intercourse of Margaret Cooper with her lover had had the most serious effect upon her manners and her looks. But the change upon her spirit was no less striking to all. “I'm sure if I did love any man,” was the opinion of one of the damsels, “I'd die sooner than show it to him, as she shows it to Alfred Stevens. It's a guess what he must think of it.” “And no hard guess neither,” said another; “I reckon there's no reason why he should pick out Margaret Cooper except that he saw that it was no such easy matter any where else.” “Well! there can be no mistake about it with them; for now they're always together--and Betty, her own maid, thinks--but it's better not to say!” And the prudent antique pursed up her mouth in a language that said everything. “What!--what does she say?” demanded a dozen voices. “Well! I won't tell you that. I won't tell you all; but she does say, among other things, that the sooner John Cross marries them, the better for all parties.” “Is it possible!” “Can it be!” “Bless me! but I always thought something wrong.” “And Betty, her own maid, told you? Well, who should know, if she don't?” “And this, too, after all her airs!” “Her great smartness, her learning, and verse-making! I never knew any good come from books yet.” “And never will, Jane,” said another, with an equivocal expression, with which Jane was made content; and, after a full half-hour's confabulation, in the primitive style, the parties separated--each, in her way, to give as much circulation to Betty's inuendoes as the importance of the affair deserved.