Netta's general inquiry was,--'Well, Owen, who is the last new love ?' to which Owen would gravely reply, by a recapitulation of the charms of some fair damsel on whom his affections would be for ever fixed, could he only afford to marry.

All his beauties had bright eyes, bright complexions, mirthful smiles, and were very 'jolly,' which seemed to be the word including all that was necessary to make a woman charming in his eyes.
'So, Netta, Howel has come into a fine fortune!' he began one morning, when he and his sister were alone together.

'I suppose he won't think of little cousin Netta now ?' 'Oh! indeed,' was Netta's reply with a toss of the head.
'I wish he was here now.

He is a fine fellow in his way.

I do like Howel.' 'I knew you would say so,' exclaimed Netta.