Towards the close of the afternoon, Bessie proposed that the work now nearly completed should be left to Elsie to finish, while they went out to enjoy the fresh, soft air, full of the sunshine and life of the early spring. "Don't you think the other side of the house is less sunny?" suggested Nannie, as Bessie seated herself on the green bank by the house, with Agnes standing at her side. "This is much pleasanter, I think, and the sun will soon be away. But take my parasol, dear; I have a bonnet, and do not need it." "Oh no, thank you; I am going to finish this story, and could not trouble myself to hold it. Virginia and I pride ourselves on complexions that neither sun nor wind can affect." And, in truth, their clear, dark, colorless, yet healthful complexions gave to their features the firm, unimpressible look of finely polished marble. "I will tell you," said Agnes, "why sister always chooses this seat. We can see Peter from here long before he reaches the gate." "Then," said Nannie, "I quite agree with her in thinking it decidedly the pleasantest. I am as impatient as she can be to see the 'Book;' but I candidly confess that the fashions are its chief attraction to me. It is a great thing to know exactly how other people dress, so as to be sure, when you come out of your winter's shell, that you are not making a fright of yourself." "Pa and I like the stories," said Agnes. "So do I," said Virginia. "But ma likes the serious part of it," continued Agnes, "and Bessie the poetry, especially if it is marked. I see her crying over it sometimes." "Oh, Agnes!" said Bessie, while her face flushed suddenly. "I would like to know what all those blushes mean," said Nannie; "whenever we mention the 'Lady's Book,' I see Bessie's cheeks growing red. What can be the association of ideas that produces such a remarkable effect?" "You know Wallace Cuthbert?" said Agnes. "Agnes, hush; you do not know anything about it," interrupted Bessie. "Yes, dear, I know Wallace Cuthbert. Go on," said Nannie, encouragingly. "Do, just let me tell this," said Agnes, too eager to impart what she considered her wonderfully acute conjecture to show her usual deference to her elder sister. "You know, Wallace Cuthbert asked pa if he might not write occasionally to Bessie when he went away, and pa would not consent to it. But ever since he first went to Philadelphia the 'Lady's Book' has been coming regularly, and I have no doubt he sends it, and marks the poetry, too." "Now, Agnes, I hope you have finished your revelations," said Bessie, a little impatiently. "Of course," continued she, turning to Nannie, "this is a mere conjecture of Agnes's, and a very childish one."