“I think he’s nice myself,” said Lillie, as she stood brushing out a golden tangle of curls.  “Dear me!” she added, “how much better he is than that Danforth!  Really, Danforth was a little too horrid:  his teeth were dreadful.  Do you know, I should have had something of a struggle to take him, though he was so terribly rich?  Then Danforth had been horridly dissipated,—­you don’t know,—­Maria Sanford told me such shocking things about him, and she knows they are true.  Now, I don’t think John has ever been dissipated.”

[Illustration:  “I think he’s nice myself.”]

“Oh, no!” said Belle.  “I heard all about him.  He joined the church when he was only twenty, and has been always spoken of as a perfect model.  I only think you may find it a little slow, living in Springdale.  He has a fine, large, old-fashioned house there, and his sister is a very nice woman; but they are a sort of respectable, retired set,—­never go into fashionable company.”

“Oh, I don’t mind it!” said Lillie.  “I shall have things my own way, I know.  One isn’t obliged to live in Springdale, nor with pokey old sisters, you know; and John will do just as I say, and live where I please.”

She said this with her simple, soft air of perfect assurance, twisting her shower of bright, golden curls; with her gentle, childlike face, and soft, beseeching, blue eyes, and dimpling little mouth, looking back on her, out of the mirror.  By these the little queen had always ruled from her cradle, and should she not rule now?  Was it any wonder that John was half out of his wits with joy at thought of possessing her?  Simply and honestly, she thought not.  He was to be congratulated; though it wasn’t a bad thing for her, either.

“Belle,” said Lillie, after an interval of reflection, “I won’t be married in white satin,—­that I’m resolved on.  Now,” she said, facing round with increasing earnestness, “there have been five weddings in our set, and all the girls have been married in just the same dress,—­white satin and point lace, white satin and point lace, over and over, till I’m tired of it. I’m determined I’ll have something new.”

“Well, I would, I’m sure,” said Belle.  “Say white tulle, for instance:  you know you are so petite and fairy-like.”

“No:  I shall write out to Madame La Roche, and tell her she must get up something wholly original.  I shall send for my whole trousseau.  Papa will be glad enough to come down, since he gets me off his hands, and no more fuss about bills, you know.  Do you know, Belle, that creature is just wild about me:  he’d like to ransack all the jewellers’ shops in New York for me.  He’s going up to-morrow, just to choose the engagement ring.  He says he can’t trust to an order; that he must go and choose one worthy of me.”

“Oh! it’s plain enough that that game is all in your hands, as to him, Lillie; but, Lil, what will your Cousin Harry say to all this?”