I seldom have—­and less here of late than ever—­a desire to marry.  To me marriage would be such an uncertain thing—­a risk with so little to gain.  I am unwilling to relinquish my hold on the center of this charming circle.  As it is I am a possibility—­unfulfilled, it is true, yet a possibility—­to twenty men or more.  So I am unwilling to give up all of my Pleasures just for the sake of any one particular Pleasure, who might in six months, aye six days, reduce himself into a miserable Platitude.  I may and I may not be a great number of things; but alas, above all, I am critical.  Platitudes as Platitudes may constantly afford even considerable interest, but Platitudes do not make ideal husbands for women of my peculiar temperament and mental caliber.

I would rather be a Queen of Possibilities reigning over many hearts than a Queen of just one heart, and that one, perhaps, a most unworthy heart.

[Illustration:  Miss Lina Searlwood, (of the Inner Sisterhood.)]