"Go and speak to your uncle, Ned, Walter, Horace, and Arthur.

You see I have given you a namesake; and this little pet we call Rose Louise, for her two aunties.

Yours is Rose, too! and what a darling! and how little Horace has grown!" "Elsie, it can't be possible!" cried Carrie, the instant they found themselves alone.
"What can't ?" and Elsie's blush and smile were charming.
"That you and Mr.Travilla are lovers! I saw it in your faces; but, 'tis too absurd! Why, he's your father's friend, and nearly as old." "All the wiser and better for that, Carrie, dear.

But he is young in heart, and far from looking old, I think.

I have grown so sick of your silly, brainless fops, who expect women neither to talk sense nor understand it." "Ah, I dare say! and Mr.Travilla is the most sensible and polished of men--always excepting my own spouse, of course.