She was the youngest of five daughters, and all had their admirers. To her the rivalry of the youths, who were proud to consider themselves her slaves, was a constant source of flattering amusement, but her heart remained untouched. If she saw any sign of real feeling on the part of any one of her swains, she was sorry, and her pity would perhaps incline her to some show of tenderness, which was really but the expression of her womanly sensibility, but it would flatter the poor youth into fictitious hopes. And then the comradeship being disturbed by an intrusion of sentimentality, she would discontentedly ask, “Why cannot we be chums, without you pretending to be in love and talking nonsense about marriage?” And he would sulkily answer that he loved her, and insist on knowing if she cared for any one better. When she replied that she did not care for any one at all in that way, he was not satisfied, but would sulk and reproach her for not loving him, which irritated her. Then she would take to avoiding the love-sick youth altogether, which would make him moody and disagreeable; and, her first pity having given place to disappointment, she would seek to enjoy herself with newer “slaves,” who had not entered the sentimental stage. But it was always the same thing over again, they all went through the various stages of comradeship, love, false hope, despondency, and jealous moodiness, until she came to the conclusion that the game was not worth the candle. She was romantic, keenly susceptible to sentiment, but her heart was still unmoved, sentimentality bored her, passion was quite unknown to her, and she had an ideal of love, born of day-dreams rather than of actual experience. Her love episodes had hitherto been pastimes, and the score had always counted “one love.” [Illustration] But the days of her boy-lovers passed over, and, to their despair, she ceased to take interest in any of them, for a man’s love had taken possession of her soul, and opened the floodgates of feeling. The sweet, latent passion of a pure woman’s nature was awakened by this love, and herself became revealed to her, amazing her by the infinite range of feeling that lay open. And yet life became narrowed to her, for all the various interests of her earlier years were now absorbed in the one great passion that made it appear a divine blessing to be alive. Nothing seemed to matter except that which concerned her lover, or herself in relation to him. Her love was her life; and that fact comprised all that it was needful to know. But he fell grievously ill and died, and she was left with only the sad memory of their love. She fully intended never to marry; but circumstances were too strong for her. The other girls did not “go off,” and a family of five girls is a heavy responsibility for a father with a limited income. Something had to be done, and after all Dr. Hearthside was in a fair practice, and would certainly prove “an excellent husband.”