"He isn't married at all; on the 26th, he is to conduct to the hymeneal altar, the beautiful Miss Sophia Morris, of Richmond, Virginia."
"No newspaper reporter could be more explicit. You will go?"
"That depends upon Miss Ross' inclinations, and somebody's gallantry."
"Poor dependence—that last! Do you know the bride elect—that is to be?"
"The bride elect, that is—is sister to a school-mate of ours; and I have some acquaintance with herself."
"Ellen will be with her sister," said Ida. "I shall enjoy meeting her. Her laugh will carry us back to days of yore."
"To days of yore," said Charley, balancéing to an imaginary partner. "Is it three or four weeks since you parted! In a young lady's calendar, a month is an age, six months eternity. You look upon me as a miracle of longevity, do you not?"
"As old enough to be less saucy," said Carry. "Do you know that this habit of catching up one's words is very rude?"
He threw a quick glance to Ida. "Miss Ross is not offended, I trust. Nothing was further from my intention than to wound or offend. I am too prone to speak without thought. Forgive me this time."
"Upon two conditions."