ear of Pearl, and it seemed all at once that
they had become very good friends indeed.

The second dance was a waltz. Tom did not know that it was the music
that stirred his soul with a sudden tenderness, a longing indefinite,
that was full of pain and yet was all sweetness. Martha who sat near
him looked at him half expectantly. But her little gray face and
twitching hands repelled him. On the other side of the room, Nellie
Slater, flushed and smiling was tapping her foot to the music.

He found himself on his feet. "Who cares for mats?" he muttered. He was
beside Nellie in an instant.

"Nellie, will you dance with me?" he faltered, wondering at his own
temerity.

"I will, Tom, with pleasure," she said, smiling.

His arm was around her now and they were off, one, two, three; one,
two, three; yes, he had the step. "Over the foam we glide," in and out
through the other dancers, the violins weaving that story of love never
ending. "What though the world be wide"--Nellie's head was just below
his face--"Love's golden star will guide." Nellie's hand was in his as
they floated on the rainbow-sea. "Drifting along, glad is our
song"--her hair blew against his cheek as they swept past the open
door. What did he care what his mother would say. He was Egbert now.
Edythe was in his arms. "While we are side by side" the violins sang,
glad, triumphant, that old story that runs like a thread of gold
through all life's patterns; that old song, old yet ever new,
deathless, unchangeable, which maketh the poor man rich and without
which the richest becomes poor!

When the music stopped, Tom awoke from his idolatrous dream. He brought
Nellie to a seat and sat awkwardly beside her. His old self-complacency
had left him. Nellie was talking to him, but he did not hear what she
said. He was not looking at her, but at himself. Before he knew it she
had left him and was dancing with Jim Russell. Tom looked after them,
miserable. She was looking into Jim's face, smiling and talking. What
the mischief were they saying? He tried to tell himself that he could
buy and sell Jim Russell; Jim had not anything in the world but a
quarter of scrub land. They passed him again, still smiling and
talking. "Nellie Slater is making herself mighty cheap," he thought
angrily. Then the thought came home to him with sudden bitterness--how
handsome Jim was, so straight and tall, so well-dressed, so clever,
and, bitterest of all, how different from him.

Wh