Oh, I almost neglected to say that all our behavior had been of the most proper and self-contained sort. I would almost be willing to have Miss Featherstonehaugh at St. Cecilia's use a kinetoscope picture of all our meetings in marking me in deportment. Of course, conversations in parks and at concerts do not lend themselves to transports very well, and the kinetoscopes do not reproduce what is said, do they? Or the way one feels when one is grinding into the dust, in that manner, the most splendid fellow in the whole terrestrial and stellar universe. "I'll go, by George!" he vowed. "And I'll sit on Aurelia's doorstep without eating or drinking until she comes home and kicks me down the stairs!" I was wondering as I went home how soon he would come; but I was astonished to learn that Mr. Helmerston was in my reception-room. "Hi informed 'im," said the footman, "that you would 'ardly be 'ome within a reasonable time of waiting; but 'e said 'e would remain until you came, Miss, nevertheless." I went down to him just as I was, in my simple piqué dress, wearing the violets he had given me. "Mr. Helmerston," said I, "I must apologize for the difficulty I have given you in obtaining the very slight boon of meeting me, and say how good you are to come again--and wait. Any friend of dearest Amelia's, not to mention her cousin, is--" He had stood in a state of positive paralysis until now. "Dolly! Dolly! Dearest, dearest Dolly!" he cried, coming up to me and taking--and doing what he hadn't had a chance to do before. "Oh, my darling, are _you_ here?" After quite a while he started up as if he had forgotten something. "What is it?" said I. "There isn't a promenader or a policeman this side of the park, sweetheart!" "No," he answered after another interval--for I hadn't called him anything like that before--"but I was thinking that--that Aurelia--is a long time in coming home." "Why, don't you know _yet_, you goosey," said I. "_I'm_ Aurelia!" * * * * * And this brings me to the point where dalliance must cease--most of the time--while the drama takes on the darker tinge given it by Pa's cruel obstinacy, and the misdeeds of the Pruntys--whom I should have brought on in the first act, somehow, on a darkened stage, conspiring across it over a black bottle, and once in a while getting up to peek up and down the flies, meanwhile uttering the villain's sibilant "Sh!" I don't suppose it is artistic, from the Augustus Thomas viewpoint, but I wanted the honeyed sweets of this courtship of mine without a tang of bitter; and, honestly now, isn't it a lovely little plot for a love-drama? * * * * * "Gee!" exclaimed the Hired Man. "I was afraid you was through!" "I am," said the Bride softly, "for to-night. If you'll excuse me now. Maybe I'll tell the rest of it at the next camp--if you want me to."