’Twas a subject some slyly had whispered in jest;
Louisa denied it at first, then confessed
To a folly her heart would no longer conceal,
Which most girls, though dying, would scarcely reveal—
Confession’s a troublesome thing in our youth—
But see how Louisa could tell the whole truth.
LOUISA’S STORY
They tell I passed the store six times to-day
And just to get a glimpse of Alfred Gray.
The very idea of such a thing!