ber of the junior class, who was known to all of them, and Mrs. Bliss made this observation,—"I don't think it pays," she said, "for an engaged man to come to college."
"Why?" asked Miss Bliss, eagerly, for speeches of this kind interest young girls especially.
"Mother is right," put in Ned, from the bottom of the table. "An engagement is a sort of a millstone,—a dead-weight for a man to carry for four years."
"Oh, how wise we are becoming!" smiled his sister.
"Well, take Clarkson, for example," Ned went on, "He'll never be happy with his wife, that is, if he ever marries her. I met her once, a silly toy of a girl, and upon my word I could not help feeling as if Clarky had outgrown her, so to speak."
"A man never knows his own mind until he's thirty," remarked Mr. Bliss, thoughtfully.
"But don't you think it is rather hard on the girl?" said Miss Bliss. Then she turned to Hart,—"Don't you agree with me?" she asked.
"It is hard on the girl."
Hart winced.
