"Come, Ellen, I wont go and entertain him alone. Besides, he's just one of your kind."
Alice, half-pouting, brushed her hair until it shone, and accompanied by her sister, left for the parlor.
Mr. Mansfield was a gentleman whom she had met at a concert, and who, though a wise man, and near thirty years of age, experienced some quickening of the pulse, as he gazed upon her lovely countenance.
"If the mind and features correspond," he said to himself, "I will win her, if I can."
Ellen was astonished at the warm reception her sister gave one whom she had appeared so reluctant to meet. Alas, she soon learned that all with Alice was appearance! There was no reality, no sincerity, even in the most simple words or actions. They sat and talked upon a variety of subjects until the young girl felt quite proud of her sister, who seemed a prodigy of learning.
Before he rose from his somewhat lengthened call, Mr. Mansfield congratulated the sisters upon meeting after so long a separation; and then looking at them he said, smiling,—
"One would be puzzled to know which is the elder."
"I am two years older than Ellen," quickly responded Alice.
"You forget," exclaimed the other, laughing; "I am three years younger than you."
The beauty cast a glance of displeasure at her sister, which was not unperceived by their visitor, and which gave him a keen pang. He bowed rather gravely, and wishing them good-morning, took his leave.