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  him. Has he ever seen you like this with your Rebecca-at-the-well hair down?”

“Certainly not!”

“I thought so; or he’d have forgotten the necessary roof!—Come in!—Goodness! it’s your room and I locked the door! Do excuse me; I’ll open it. A telegram for you.—Wait outside for an answer, Jimmy.”

I tore open the envelope, confidently expecting that Cousin Sarah had been struck with paralysis; instead of which I read:

I handed the message to the Kitten, who read it and exclaimed: “I knew he was only waiting for the roof! You see he does n’t worry about my prospects—selfish pig! Answer it and say Thursday—you can get well by Thursday, can’t you?—for I want