LOVE IN A COTTAGE.
"Tell me, Charley, who is that fascinating creature in blue that waltzes so divinely?" asked young Frank Belmont of his friend Charles Hastings, as they stood "playing wallflower" for the moment, at a military ball.
"Julia Heathcote," answered Charles, with a half sigh, "an old flame of mine. I proposed, but she refused me."
"On what ground?"
"Simply because I had a comfortable income. Her head is full of romantic notions, and she dreams of nothing but love in a cottage. She contends that poverty is essential to happiness—and money its bane."
"Have you given up all hopes of her?"
"Entirely; in fact, I'm engaged."
"Then you have no objections to my addressing this dear, romantic angel?"
"None whatever. But I see my fiancée—excuse me—I must walk through the next quadrille with her."