THE WIDOW'S FLIRTATION.
Mrs. Harrington plunged into her natural element at once; Mr. Rhodes was a rich widower, vulgar and pompous as could well be imagined; but that made no difference, the lady spread her flimsy net in that direction and put on all her fascinations at once, leaving the younger men to their fate. This was splendid sport to Elsie, for Miss Jemima, the daughter, a gaunt, peaked-nosed female, had been Miss Jemima a good many more years than she found agreeable, and when any woman ventured even to look at her stout parent, she was up in arms at once and ready to do battle against the threatened danger, resolved that one man at least should own her undivided dominion, even if that man was her pompous old father. Mr. Rhodes was at once captivated by the widow's flattery, and Elsie mischievously increased Jemima's growing irritation by whispers full of honied malice, that almost drove that single lady distracted.
"Quite a flirtation, I declare," said she; "really, Miss Jemima, widows are very dangerous, and she is so fascinating."
"It's ridiculous for a woman to go on so," returned the spinster, shaking her head in vehement agitation; "you may just tell her it's no use, my pa isn't likely to be caught with chaff like that."
"Oh, but Mrs. Harrington is considered irresistible."
"Well, I can't see it for my part," retorted Jemima; "She's a tolerable specimen of antique painting; but my pa isn't given to the fine arts."
"Oh! Mrs. Harrington," called Elsie, "I wish you could induce Mr. Rhodes to give us a picnic in his woods before the weather gets too cold—they are delightful. I daren't ask him, but you might venture, I'm sure."
Miss Jemima looked as if she had three minds to strangle the pretty torment on the spot.
"Excuse me, dear," said Mrs. Harrington, "I am sure I could have no influence."
"Oh, you painted humbug!" muttered Jemima.