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February 18.

LICE has been here, has followed me into my room, and has given me a long dissertation on the inconvenience of single life. It seems to me that Alice has grown somewhat worldly wise, and perhaps a trifle vain. She appeared to be quite in earnest, as she set forth the advantages of marriage. She began cautiously, so that I did not know what she was leading me up to, until I heard myself saying that I would not marry a Russian, under any circumstances.

"Why not?" she asked, with a little pink flush on her cheek.

"Oh, I don't know," I answered feebly.

"I suppose you are not blind," she continued. "You must have seen that there is a certain Russian whose happiness depends on you."

"What a hackneyed expression!" I exclaimed, trying to laugh.

Alice began to examine a bracelet which lay on my dressing-table.

"I wish you would tell me, Dorris, why you keep George hanging about you in this way. Every one