Twelve o'clock came very quickly--too quickly for me, in fact; for I
had not accomplished near so much as I had hoped to do. It would
require the most diligent application, through every moment of time
that intervened until the dinner hour, for us to get through with
what we were doing, so as to have the afternoon to ourselves for the
intended excursion.

As the clock rung out the hour of noon, I exclaimed:

"Is it possible! I had no idea that it was so late. How slowly I do
seem to get along!"

Just at this moment the bell rung.

"Bless me! I hope we are not to have visitors this morning," said I,
as I let my hands fall in my lap. I thought hurriedly for a moment,
and then remarked, in a decided way:

"Of course we cannot see any one. We are engaged."

By this time I heard the footsteps of Mary on her way from the
kitchen, and I very naturally passed quickly to the parlor door to
intercept and give her my instructions.

"Say that I'm engaged," was on my tongue. But, somehow or other, I
had not the courage to give these words utterance. The visitor might
be a person to whom such an excuse for not appearing would seem
unkind, or be an offence. In this uncertain state, my mind fell into
confusion. Mary was before me, and awaiting the direction she saw