The last remark was levelled at her mother, who had a singular way of laughing; to wit, shaking all over, without emitting the slightest sound, while big tears rolled down her cheeks. Alice was the idol of her heart, and her queer freaks of vivacious drollery often set her mother off, as at present, into uncontrollable undulations of entirely inaudible laughter. “The fat lady on the sofa, I am happy to be able to announce to the audience, is coming to.” “Yes,” said Mrs. Carter, wiping her eyes, “and do you cease your crazy pranks till the fat lady gets her breath. What were you going to say, Mary?” “I was going to say that I am glad I said what I did, if for no other reason than that it afforded us all another opportunity of seeing how kind and charitable is Lucy’s heart.” “Yes,” said Alice, “you elicited from Lucy her maiden speech; which I had never expected to hear in this life.” “But really,” continued Mary, “the Don’s eyes are peculiar. Do you know what I have thought of, more than once, when I have seen their rapidly changing expression? I was reminded of certain stars which—” “Reminiscences of our late astronomy class,” broke in Alice, in a stage whisper. Mary smiled, but continued: “of certain stars which seem first to shrink and then to dilate,—now growing dark, at the next moment shooting forth bickering flames,—at one time—” Mary here caught Alice’s eye, and could get no farther. Alice rose slowly to her feet and said, gravely waving her closed fan as though it had been the wand of a showman, “This, ladies and gentlemen, is not a speech, but poetry and romance. I would simply observe that when a young woman begins by stating that she does not like a certain man, and ends by comparing his eyes to stars, the last state of that young woman shall be worse than the first. But I am somehow reminded of the Moonlight Sonata. Mr. Whacker, I beg you will conduct Miss Lucy to the piano.” CHAPTER VII. “What do you think?” said I, the next afternoon, as I entered the parlor. The young ladies were all there; Lucy, with whom I had an engagement to walk, with her bonnet on. “Oh, what is it?” “What do you suppose? Guess?” “You have found out who he is!” “Not exactly.” “You have seen him!” “Well, yes.” “Have you met him,—spoken with him?” I nodded. “Oh, do tell us all about it!” “There is not much to tell. Just this moment, on my way here, I came upon Laura and her nurse and the Don standing at the corner. Laura did not observe me till I was close to her, but, as soon as she did, she ran up and took hold of my hand, and said, pointing straight at the Don, ‘He’s the one what gives me the candy;’ and, immediately releasing my hand, she ran up and seized that of the so-called Don Miff, and, looking up into his face, said, ‘That ain’t Uncle Mr. Whacker. That’s Mr. Fat Whacker. He’s the one what’—” And I paused. “Oh, please go on!” cried Alice and Mary; while Lucy colored slightly.