Whether I deserved the enviable place that I occupied in Bertha's estimation, it is not for me to say.

Let me leave the decision to the lady who has ceased to be Miss Laroche--I mean the lady who has been good enough to become my wife.
MISS DULANE AND MY LORD.
Part I.
TWO REMONSTRATIONS.
I.
ONE afternoon old Miss Dulane entered her drawing-room; ready to receive visitors, dressed in splendor, and exhibiting every outward appearance of a defiant frame of mind.
Just as a saucy bronze nymph on the mantelpiece struck the quarter to three on an elegant clock under her arm, a visitor was announced--"Mrs.
Newsham." Miss Dulane wore her own undisguised gray hair, dressed in perfect harmony with her time of life.

Without an attempt at concealment, she submitted to be too short and too stout.

Her appearance (if it had only been made to speak) would have said, in effect: "I am an old woman, and I scorn to disguise it." Mrs.Newsham, tall and elegant, painted and dyed, acted on the opposite principle in dressing, which confesses nothing.

On exhibition before the world, this lady's disguise asserted that she had reached her thirtieth year on her last birthday.