Phillis opened her eyes rather widely at this. Nan was not often so observant. It was true: self-consciousness was a torment to Archibald Drummond, a Frankenstein of his own creation, that had grown imperceptibly with his growth to the fell measure of his manhood, as inseparable as the shadow from the substance. Phillis had recognized it at once; but then, as she said, no one was faultless; and then, he was so handsome. "Very handsome" chimed in Dulce, whose opinions were full-fledged in such matters. "Is he? Well, I never cared for a man with a long fair beard," observed Nan, carelessly. Poor Archie! how his vanity would have suffered if he had heard her! for, in a masculine way, he prided himself excessively on the soft silky appendage that Grace had so often praised. A certain boyish countenance, with kindly honest eyes and a little sandy moustache, was more to Nan's taste than the handsome young Anglican. "Oh, we all know Nan's opinion in such matters," said Dulce, slyly; and then Nan blushed, and suddenly remembered that Dorothy was waiting for her in the linen-closet, and hurried away, leaving her sisters to discuss their visitors to their hearts' content. CHAPTER XIX. ARCHIE IS IN A BAD HUMOR. "Oh, Archie, I was never more astonished in my life!" exclaimed Mattie, as she tried to adapt her uneven trot to her brother's long swinging footsteps; and then she glanced up in his face to read his mood: but Archie's features were inscrutable and presented an appalling blank. In his mind he was beginning his letter to Grace, and wondering what he should say to her about their new neighbors. "Writing is such a nuisance when one wants to talk to a person," he thought, irritably. "Oh, Archie, won't you tell me what we are to do?" went on Mattie, excitedly. She would not take Archie's silence as a hint that he wanted to keep his thoughts to himself. "Those poor girls! oh, how nice and pretty they all are, especially the eldest! and is not the youngest--Dulce, I think they called her--the very image of Isabel?" "Isabel! not a bit. That is so like you, Mattie. You always see likenesses when other people cannot trace the faintest resemblance," for this remark was sure to draw out his opposition. Isabel was a silly flirting little thing in her brother's estimation, and, he thought, could not hold a candle to the youngest Miss Challoner. "Oh dear! now I have made you cross!" sighed poor Mattie, who especially wanted to keep him in good humor. "And yet every one but you thinks Isabel so pretty. I am sure, from what Grace said in her last letter, that Mr. Ellis Burton means to propose to her." "And I suppose you will all consider that a catch," sneered Archie. "That is so like a parcel of women, thinking every man who comes to the house and makes a few smooth-tongued speeches--is, in fact, civil--must be after a girl. Of course you have all helped to instill this nonsense into the child's head."