"Bell!" exclaimed Susan; "are you going to be married?"
"Perhaps," said Bell. "And you, Miss Susan?"
"No," said Susan, stoutly. "No! And you sha n't be. I can't spare you."
At this moment Tom entered, and Bell ran out of the room, singing:—
"'Wooed and married and a',
Kissed and carried awa!"
"Who 's married now?" asked Tom.
"Nobody," replied Susan. "But I 'm afraid Bell will be."
"Why, Sue!" said Tom; "it is n't possible that you have not seen all along that Bell would surely marry Fred Ballister?"
Susan looked aghast.
"I never thought of such a thing," she exclaimed. "Why, what will become of me?"
Tom looked in her face without speaking. If he had been a less reticent, less obstinate man, he would have poured out a voluble torrent of words just then; but he did not open his lips. He knew that Susan knew what his look meant. Yet he might have made it less hard for her. What could she say? She flushed and lowered her eyes, and finally said:—
"Oh, Tom!"
There was a world of appeal in the exclamation,
