"Oh, dear; there's no fear of her then. If I were to go over sixteen before I married, I should be frightened to death."
"Suppose Carpenter offers himself?"
"I hope he won't just yet."
"Why?"
"I want two or three strings to my bow. It would be dangerous to reject one unless I had another in my eye."
"Reject? Nonsense! Why should you reject an offer?"
"My mother had three offers before she was sixteen, and rejected two of them."
"Was she married so early?"
"Oh, yes; she was a wife at sixteen, and I'm not going to be a day later, if possible. I'd like to decline three offers and get married into the bargain before a year passes. Wouldn't that be admirable? It would be something to boast of all my life."
Pretty well advanced!—the reader no doubt exclaims; and so our young lady certainly was. When a very young girl gets into love matters, she "does them up," as the saying is, quite fast; she doesn't mince matters at all. A maiden of twenty is cooler, more thoughtful, and more cautious. She thinks a good deal, and is very careful how she lets any one—even her confidante, if she should happen to have one, (which is doubtful)—know much beyond her mere external thoughts. Four or five years make a good deal of difference in these things. But this need hardly have been said.