"First time I ever saw love make a woman studious and sensible."
"They are uncommon symptoms; nevertheless, Kitty's in love. Poor child!"
"With whom?"
"Max Raymond;" and the mother dropped her eyes upon the ruffle she was pleating for Kitty's dress, while Tom Duffan accompanied the new-born thought with his favorite melody.
Thus the winter passed quickly and happily away. Greatly to Kitty's delight, before its close Jack found the "blonde, sentimental, intellectual friend," who could appreciate both him and his writings; and the two went to housekeeping in what Kitty called "a large dry-goods box." The merry little wedding was the last event of a late spring, and when it was over the summer quarters were an imperative question.
"I really don't know what to do, mother," said Tom. "Kitty vowed she would not go to the Peak this year, and I scarcely know how to get along without it."
"Oh, Kitty will go. Max Raymond has quarters at the hotel lower down."
"Oh, oh! I'll tease the little puss."
"You will do nothing of the kind, Tom, unless you want to go to Cape May or the Branch. They both imagine their motives undiscovered; but you just let Kitty know that you even suspect them, and she won't stir a step in your direction."
Here Kitty, entering the room, stopped the conversation. She had a pretty lawn suit on, and a Japanese fan in her hand. "Lawn and fans, Kitty," said Tom: "time to leave the city. Shall we go to the Branch, or Saratoga?"