One of the girls was Constance Hull. Said she, "I do so like to dance with Alfred, he keeps such excellent time." "But then he parts his hair in the middle, Constance, and I think that is so horrid. Did you notice his malachite sleeve-buttons and topaz studs? Wretched taste, isn't it? They say he is engaged too--dear me! I don't see how any one could marry a person with so little idea of what is becoming. Do tell me who that gentleman is that was dancing with Edna? I do think he is too handsome for anything." "Why, don't you know? Why, it's Sarah Carver's cousin, Fred Spooner--isn't he splendid? He came all the way from Boston. He's quite smitten with Edna, and I know she admires him." Mark's eavesdropping was sufficiently punished by this intelligence, but he was destined to suffer still further when he saw Edna dancing again with this admirer, who was a tall blooming fellow, all ease and grace. He felt a pang of jealousy when he saw them after the dance promenading together; Spooner chatting with animation and proud of his partner, while she looked at him evidently pleased and amused at his remarks. They came directly towards the window and took seats in the recess. Miss Hull and her companions had left the spot, and the young fellow probably desired to enjoy a _tête-à-tête_. He was pleading for a flower from Edna's nosegay. "I beg and beseech you to bestow upon me a bud from your beautiful bouquet." "Dear me," said Edna, "what a quantity of B's!" "Yes, quite a swarm, attracted by your excessive sweetness, of course," smirked Spooner, pleased at his effort at wit; while Mark, who had caught every word, thought it very silly, not to say impertinent. Edna selected a rosebud, which she gave to her companion, who placed it in his button-hole. "I shall keep it forever, Miss Heath." "Indeed, how long is your forever?" "As long as memory holds a seat in this distracted brain, and longer. I'll take it home, and when it wilts I'll press it in my prayer-book." "Where you are sure never to see it again," remarked Edna. "Merciless Miss Heath!--Excessively warm, though, here, isn't it? Hadn't I better throw open the top blind?" and with that he pushed it open, causing Mark to shrink aside to avoid discovery, "Warm as a dog-day, isn't it? Talking of dogs, are you fond of 'em, Miss Heath? I've got just the smallest black-and-tan--well, he don't weigh over twenty-three ounces, and if you would only accept him, I'd be so delighted. I think the world of him, and to know that he was constantly near you, would make me the happiest feller in existence. To be sure his ears aren't cropped yet. Do you like cropped black-and-tans? Or if you'd prefer a Spitz? I've got a real nice Spitz, but he's snappish. Spitzes are apt to be snappish, haven't you noticed? But then he's just as good a ratter as any black-and-tan you ever saw. When you come to Boston, if you and Sarah Carver will only come to Roxbury--"