it is one thing to admire a pretty girl, quite another thing to fall in love with her.

the next afternoon sally pendleton watched behind closed blinds as her sister drove off, proud and happy as a queen, in jay gardiner's handsome carriage. louise pendleton kissed her finger-tips gracefully to the blinds, behind which she knew her rebellious sister was watching.

the drive through the country roads was delightful, it was such a fine day, so bright, so sunshiny. jay gardiner seemed to feel the influence of it, and almost unconsciously cast aside the mantle of haughtiness and pride, in which he usually wrapped himself, in order to make it pleasant for the beautiful, graceful girl whom fortune and fate had flung in his way.

louise realized what a golden chance she was having, and made the best of it.

that was the beginning of the strangest romance that ever was written.

when jay gardiner helped his fair companion from the buggy, louise pendleton looked shyly into her companion's face, murmuring that she had had the most delightful drive of her life.

"i am glad you are so well pleased," answered jay, raising his straw hat with a low bow; adding, gallantly: "i must take your sister out and show her what beautiful roads we have here."

louise was thoroughly diplomatic. a hot flush rose to her face, but she crushed back the words that sprung to her lips, saying sweetly:

"you are indeed thoughtful, mr. gardiner. i am sure sally will appreciate it."

"we will arrange it for to-morrow," he said. "i would be delighted to have you accompany us. i will drop in at the hop this evening, and you can let me know."

louise and her mother had a long talk that afternoon.

"i think she may as well go with you," said the mother. "i am positive that he will prefer you to your sister. fair men usually like their opposites in complexion."

the following afternoon the two sisters went driving with handsome jay in his splendid t-cart, and were the envy of every girl in the village.

he did his best to entertain them. he drove them over to great barrington, and through the spacious grounds that surrounded the castle.

the eyes of both sisters glowed as they caught sight of the magnificent, palatial house, and each resolved, in the depths of her heart, that this should be her home, and that she should reign mistress there.

jay gardiner divided his attentions so equally between the two sisters that neither could feel the least bit slighted.

the fortnight that followed flew by on golden wings.

there was not a day that jay gardiner did not take the two sisters on some sight-seeing expedition.

every one began to wonder which of the sisters was the favorite.

mrs. pendleton watched affairs with the keenest interest.

"if he has a preference for either, it is certainly louise," she told herself. "sally seems content that it should be so."

all night long, after these afternoon excursions, both girls would seek their pillows, and dream the whole night through of handsome jay gardiner.

louise would talk of him all the following morning, but sally uttered no word; her secret was buried down in the depths of her heart.

other young men of the village sought a pleasant word or a smile from gay, capricious sally pendleton. but she would have none of them.

"i will have a millionaire or nothing," she said, with a little laugh.

on two or three occasions, much to sally's chagrin, mr. gardiner invited louise to drive without her.

"that shows which way the wind is beginning to blow," she thought; and she looked at her sister critically.

louise and her mother often had long conferences when she came in from her rambles with him.

"has he spoken?" mrs. pendleton would ask; and she always received the same answer in a disappointed tone—"no!"

"any other girl would have had a declaration from the young man before this time."

"if i could make the man propose, i would be his betrothed without a day's delay," louise would reply, quite discontentedly.

sally would turn away quickly before they had time to notice the expression on her face.

one day, in discussing the matter, mr. pendleton observed his younger daughter gazing fixedly at her mother and louise.

"love affairs do not interest you, sally," he said, with a laugh. "my dear," he said, suddenly, "you are not at all like your mother in disposition. could you ever love any one very much?"

"i do not know, papa," she answered. "i do not love many people. i only care for a few. in the way you mean, love would be a fire with me, not a sentiment."

how vividly the words came back to him afterward when her love proved a devastating fire!

she had turned suddenly to the window, and seemed to forget his question.

no one knew what a depth of passion there was in the heart of this girl. if any one should have asked her what she craved most on earth, she would have replied, on the spur of the moment—"love!"