"Never shall I forget that tableau we presented--being our own spectators--when, with your head resting on my knee in the old summer-house, you, with trembling lips, told me of that delightful youth! and of your future prospects; and how, when you approached the interesting climax, I joined in with you and told _my_ story, too; and how, instead of our becoming sworn foes from that hour, two more loving and light-hearted beings seldom took pen in hand, than we, when we wrote that joint letter, and saved George from the fate of bigamists! Well, there was _never_ a more captivating youth than he--at least we must _say_ so, to save ourselves from the obloquy of falling in love with such a _scamp_! Who'd have thought it? those very stories of his early life, and sorrows which drew such earnest tears from _my_ eyes. I suppose you, too, have wept upon his shoulder as he told them. Ah, me! "Then there was the poet, Earnest Ward. I tolerated _him_ because his father was a college friend of my paternal, who wished us always to show him kindness, and make the orphan feel himself not quite so friendless. But you cannot believe that _I_ loved _him_. Poor fellow! he is dead now. He never seemed destined to a long life to me; the fact is, he did not possess _energy_ enough to keep him alive. And he was eternally railing against Fate and his poverty, which no man who wishes to gain favor in _my_ eyes must indulge in. His talents _were not_ of that order which commands the ear of the public--and yet he seemed to think so, and in that thought centered all his hope. There was nothing practical about Ernest. He belonged to that miserable class of beings, (how many of them we see about us,) who are aptly described as having lost _their way_ in the great roads of life, having early groped blindly past the stations they were designed to fill. Ernest had a good deal of fancy and ingenuity--more than should have been lavished on newspaper enigmas, and verses descriptive of the color of my hair and eyes; he might have made a capital manufacturer, or designer of toys. He was made, I am convinced, for some such purpose, and might have excelled in some such _art_; but least of all, you will acknowledge, was Ernest Ward fitted to be _my_ husband. And well for us was it, that if he did not know it, _I did_. "And, last of all of whom I will speak, there was Edward Graham; and thus I fancy I hear him described by some (whom I _will_ say I am not sorry to have left behind me,) 'a fine fellow! but driven to desperation and to sea by that worthless flirt, Florence Cleveland!' Now I will give you an opportunity, _ma chere_, to laugh in your sleeve, if you will, for beyond the shadow of a doubt, I am engaged to this same Edward Graham, who departed in such desperation; and what's more, I mean to marry him, too.