Miss Sallianna argued, should not be neglected by his lady acquaintances.  Who wonders at such reasoning?  Is this the only instance which has ever been known?  Do sentimental ladies of an uncertain age always refuse to take charge of the growing hearts of innocent and handsome youths, just becoming initiated in the mysteries of the tender passion?  Or do they not most willingly assume the onerous duty of directing the naive instincts of such youthful cavaliers into proper channels and toward worthy objects—­even occasionally, from their elevated regard, present themselves as the said “worthy objects” for the youthful affection?  Queenly and most lovely dames of uncertain age, and tender instincts, it is not the present chronicler who will so far forget his reputation for gallantry, as to assert that “I should like to marry” is your favorite madrigal.

Therefore let it be distinctly understood and remembered, as a thing necessary and indispensable to the true comprehension of this veracious history, that the beautiful Miss Sallianna was not attracted by Verty’s handsome dress, his fashionable coat, rosetted shoes, well powdered hair, or embroidered waistcoat gently rubbing against the spotless frill—­that these things did not enter into her mind when she resolved to attach the young man to her suit, and turn his affection and “esteem” toward herself.  By no means;—­she saw in him only a handsome young fellow, whose education could not prosper under the supervision of such a mere child as Redbud; and thus she found herself called upon to superintend it in her proper person, and for that purpose now designed to commence initiating the youthful cavalier into the science of the heart without delay.

These few words may probably serve to explain the unusual favor with which Miss Sallianna seemed to regard Verty—­the empressement with which she gently fanned his agitated brow—­the fascinating smile which she threw upon him, a smile which seemed to say, “Come! confide your sorrows to a sympathizing heart.”

Verty, preoccupied with his sad reflections, for some moments remained silent.  Miss Sallianna broke the pause by saying—­

“You seem to be annoyed by something, Mr. Verty.  Need I repeat that in me you will find a friend of philosophic partiality and undue influence to repose your confidential secrets in?”

Verty sighed.

“Oh! that is a bad sign,” said the lady, simpering.

“What, ma’am?” asked Verty, raising his head.

“That sigh.”

“I don’t feel very well.”

“In the body or the mind?”

“I suppose it’s the mind, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am—­I am not so much your senior.  True, the various experiences I have extracted from the circumambient universe render me somewhat more thoughtful, but my heart is very young,” said Miss Sallianna, simpering, and slaying Verty with her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am—­I mean Miss Sallianna,” he said.