The thought of the coming seperation, although but for four days, caused me deep greif.  Although engaged for only a short time, already I felt how it feels to know that in the vicinaty is some one dearer than Life itself.  I felt I must speak to some one, so I observed to Hannah that I was most unhappy, but not to ask me why.  I was dressing at the time, and she was hooking me up.

“Unhappy!” she said, “with a thousand dollars a year, and naturaly curly hair!  You ought to be ashamed, Miss Bab.”

“What is money, or even hair?” I asked, “when one’s Heart aches?”

“I guess it’s your stomache and not your Heart,” she said.  “With all the candy you eat.  If you’d take a dose of magnezia to-night, Miss Bab, with some orange juice to take the taste away, you’d feel better right off.”

I fled from my chamber.

I have frequently wondered how it would feel to be going down a staircase, dressed in one’s best frock, low neck and no sleaves, to some loved one lurking below, preferably in evening clothes, although not necesarily so.  To move statuesqly and yet tenderly, apearing indiferent but inwardly seathing, while below pasionate eyes looked up as I floated down.

However, Tom had not put on evening dress, his clothes being all packed.  He was taking one of father’s cigars as I entered the library, and he looked very tall and adolesent, although thin.  He turned and seeing me, observed: 

“Great Scott, Bab!  Why the raiment?”

“For you,” I said in a low tone.

“Well, it makes a hit with me all right,” he said.

And came toward me.

When Jane Raleigh was first kissed by a member of the Other Sex, while in a hammick, she said she hated to be kissed until he did it, and then she liked it.  I at the time had considered Jane as flirtatous and as probably not hating it at all.  But now I knew she was right, for as I saw Tom coming toward me after laying fatther’s cigar on the piano, I felt that I could not bear it.

And this I must say, here and now.  I do not like kissing.  Even then, in that first embrase of to, I was worried because I could smell the varnish burning on the Piano.  I therfore permited but one salute on the cheek and no more before removing the cigar, which had burned a large spot.

“Look here,” he said, in a stern manner, “are we engaged or aren’t we?  Because I’d like to know.”

“If you are to demonstrative, no!” I replied, firmly.

“If you call that a kiss, I don’t.”

“It sounded like one,” I said.  “I suppose you know more than I do what is a kiss and what is not.  But I’ll tell you this—­there is no use keeping our amatory affairs to ourselves and then kissing so the Butler thinks the fire whistle is blowing.”

We then sat down, and I gave him the key ring, which he said was a dandy.  I then told him about getting Sis married and out of the way.  He thought it was a good idea.