The engagement was a smash, a festive, a lively party indeed, for everyone approved of the pair- sweet dear Helenvine, hair rich and eyes green, and the beloved bachelor that vowed to his friends he would never marry. The punch was drawn and their lips were filled with stone fruit. The ladies were like chandeliers and the men wore dark black suits. The music, it roved like the presence of the moon was pulled down toward them, just to listen to it gasp. Their glasses were filled then to a toast but were broken when at the last words a voice treaded forth, a bold heart bringing news of a second engagement, the voice of rare sweet Felicity, and to the room, a rejoicing announcement, so much splendor and smiling faces, that none took notice of the drone that filled, lovely Helenvine. It was she, who could not bare, to see the two of them as a pair, and in her disapproval she shunned any kind remark or glance, and thence remained a bitter taste within her mouth throughout the rest of the dance. Under the bridges of a candlewick waltz, Felicity drew away and caught the wrist of the cold-reposing Helenvine. The music broke when she fled in speech, and caught out the words of how she felt so much weakened by the clear disapproval within her fluttering lashes that grew as cold as ice. Her pride was not lessened or dimmed but was rebuked when she fell from the angel’s voices as she casted her speech throughout the room to tell them of how you can never assume, that one love is better then another, for it never can be matched just by fact, but by free and true hearts that deem what is love by eachother.