'I couldn't have done
better myself!' Wych Hazel blushed painfully; but Rollo's
answer was extremely unconcerned.

'I don't always give people a good time,' he said. 'You are
fortunate, Miss Kitty. I am impelled to ask, in this
connection, how long Mrs. Powder expects us to make our good
times this evening?'

Upon comparing watches in the moonlight, it was found that the
night was well on its way. There was nothing more to do but to
go home.

On the way home, a little bit of talk occurred in the
rockaway, which may be reported. Going along quietly in the
bright moonlit road, Rollo driving, Primrose suddenly asked a
question--

'Didn't you use to be a great waltzer, Duke?'

'A waltzer?--yes.'

'Then what made you not waltz to-night?'

Rollo leaned back against one side of the rockaway, and
answered, while the old horse walked leisurely on--,

'I have looked at the subject from a new point of view, Prim.'

'Have you?--From what point of view, Duke?' said Primrose, much
interested.

'I have made up my mind,' said Rollo slowly, 'I shall waltz no
more,--except with the lady who will be my wife. And when I
waltz with her,--she will waltz with nobody else!'

Prim sat back in her corner, and spoke not a word more.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE LOSS OF ALL THINGS.

'And how do you like your new neighbour, Prim?' said the young
Dr. Maryland the first night of his return home. He had talked
all tea-time to the collective family without once mentioning
Miss Kennedy's name, and now put the question to his sister as
they sat alone together in the twilight.

'O Arthur, _very_ much.'

'You see a good deal of her?' was the next question, asked
after a pause.

'Y--es,' said Primrose, doubtfully, 'At least, when I am with
her I think I do; when I am away from her it seems little.'

'I must ride over there and call, to-morrow,' said Dr. Arthur.
'Will you go too?'

And so it fell out that Dingee was summoned to the door next
day to usher in the party.

'Yes'm, Miss Ma'land--Miss Hazel, she in, sure!--singin' to
herself in de red room,'-- and Dingee led the way.

It was a new room to most of the guests. A room that seemed
two sides woodland and one side sunshine. Walls with deep
crimson hangings, and carpets of the same hue; and quaint old
carved oak chairs and tables, and a bookcase or two, and oaken
shelves and brackets against the crimson of the walls. The
morning had been cool enough, there at Chickaree, for a