rough and awkward; school-boys often were, even those born in a city.  Very much of Ralph’s life had been spent away from home, she knew; and she had often heard that boys away from home influences grew rude and coarse oftentimes.  Yes, that was undoubtedly it.  Shy, too, he was of course; he was of about the age to be that.  She could imagine just how he looked—­he felt out of place in the grand mansion which he called home, but where he had passed so small a portion of his time.  Probably he didn’t know what to do with his hands, nor his feet; and just as likely as not he sat on the edge of his chair and ate with his knife—­school was a horrid place for picking up all sorts of ill manners.  Of course all these things must annoy Abbie very much, especially at this time when he must necessarily come so often in contact with that perfection of gentlemanliness, Mr. Foster.  “I wish,” thought Ester at this point, growing a little anxious, “I wish there was more than a week before the wedding; however I’ll do my best.  Abbie shall see I’m good for something.  Although I do differ with her somewhat in her peculiar views, I believe I know how to conduct myself with ease, in almost any position, if I have been brought up in the country.”  And by the time the lunch-bell rang a girl more thoroughly satisfied with herself and her benevolent intentions, than was this same Ester, could hardly have been found.  She stood before the glass smoothing the shining bands of hair, preparatory to tying a blue satin ribbon over them, when Abbie fluttered in.

“Forgive me, a great many times, for rushing off in the flutter I did, and leaving you behind, and staying away so long.  You see I haven’t seen Ralph in quite a little time, and I forgot everything else.  Your hair doesn’t need another bit of brushing, Ester, it’s as smooth as velvet; they are all waiting for us in the dining-room, and I want to show you to Ralph.”  And before the blue satin ribbon was tied quite to her satisfaction, Ester was hurried to the dining-room, to take up her new role of guide and general assistant to the awkward youth.

“I suppose he hasn’t an idea what to say to me,” was her last compassionate thought, as Abbie’s hand rested on the knob.  “I hope he won’t be hopelessly quiet, but I’ll manage in some way.”

At first he was nowhere to be seen; but as Abbie said eagerly:  “Ralph, here is Cousin Ester!” the door swung back into its place, and revealed a tall, well-proportioned young man, with a full-bearded face, and the brightest of dancing eyes.  He came forward immediately, extending both hands, and speaking in a rapid voice.

“Long-hoped-for come at last!  I don’t refer to myself, you understand, but to this much-waited-for, eagerly-looked-forward-to prospect of greeting my Cousin Ester.  Ought I to welcome you, or you me—­which is it?  I’m somewhat bewildered as to proprieties.  This fearfully near approach to a wedding has confused my brain.  Sis”—­turning suddenly to Abbie—­“Have you prepared Ester for her fate?  Does she fully understand that she and I are to officiate? that is, if we don’t evaporate before the eventful day.  Sis, how could you have the conscience to perpetrate a wedding in August?  Whatever takes Foster abroad just now, any way?” And without waiting for answer to his ceaseless questions he ran gaily on.