“Of course we are,” said the president; “we wouldn’t get nearly so many things out of them, if we were not. Girls, I hear that Annie has finally decided to marry Nelson.” “I thought she had done that long ago,” said the brown-eyed blonde. “Talk of a woman not knowing her own mind. That man never—” “He knew his own mind well enough, dear. It was only about Annie’s that he was doubtful,” said the girl with the dimple in her chin. “Annie told me herself how it came to be settled. She said that she couldn’t decide whether to accept him or not—” “Which means that she had done all she could, and was doubtful whether he would do the rest,” said the brown-eyed blonde. “Perhaps so. At any rate it was still uncertain until last Tuesday. He had been out of town for several days, and returned unexpectedly. Annie had gone out to mail a letter, and just as she raised the lid of the letter-box she saw him coming up the street toward her. As they walked away together, she glanced down and saw that she still held her letter in her hand, but her pocket-book was gone!” “Goodness, you don’t mean to say that she—” “I do. She said she knew at once that she must care a good deal for a man whose sudden appearance was enough to make her post her pocketbook instead of a letter—so she said ‘Yes.’” “As soon as he asked her,” said the brown-eyed blonde. “Well, what he can see in _her_, I’m sure _I_ don’t know!” “What _she_ can see in _him_ puzzles me,” said the blue-eyed girl, thoughtfully. “I don’t see how any girl can really love and honor a man who wears red neckties; do you?” “For _my_ part, I can’t see what they see in each other,” said the president, thoughtfully. “Well, I really think Annie ought to give me a handsome present, for it was I who brought it all about.” “Mercy, did you speak ill of her to Nelson?” “No; but I told Tom the other day that I didn’t believe that girl would ever get married. And when I make a remark like that about any girl, she may as well set about selecting her trousseau, for somebody is sure to propose to her at once.” “And yet, I doubt if Annie would be grateful to you, if you told her,” said the blue-eyed girl, thoughtfully. “One must not expect gratitude in this world, dear. The consciousness of having done one’s duty is reward enough for a right-minded person. By the way, Emily dear, I hear that Dick says he will positively wait no longer. You must give him a decisive answer one way or the other, or he—” “Yes; but he hasn’t yet screwed up the courage to tell _me_ so, dear. When he _does_, it will be time for me to make up my mind. I do wonder,” she added, thoughtfully, “why a girl who has one lover already, is sure to win the affections of another man?”