ople always ready to promenade. But
this was not an outdoor party, the night was too cool to make
it even partially such; and to walk the whole evening in the
moonlight is one thing, and in the gaslight quite another.
Then Kitty Fisher was in a merciless mood,--and Hazel could not
head her off with flat denials; because, though not really
under orders, she well knew how much Mr. Rollo had to do with
what they termed 'her new kink about dancing.' And even worse
than the open charge that she was afraid to disobey, were the
covert insinuations that she was anxious to please.

Then (to tell the whole truth) she did very much long for
another flight among the gay flags and ribbands which made the
German so lively,--she could not see the harm! Only she could
never have done it with those grey eyes looking on and drawing
their own false conclusions about everybody and everything.
But to-night he was not on hand: the guests had all arrived
long ago, and no guardian in any shape among them. And so,
over persuaded by circumstances, and especially by Mr.
Nightingale, who made himself rather more than a circumstance,
Wych hazel gave him her hand and went forward to take her
place. Under pledge, however, that if any one of the new
figures came up she had leave to retire. A burst of applause
and congratulation hailed her appearance; and in a very few
minutes she had forgotten all but the music and the whirl of
intoxication. Even partners sank into insignificance, and
became only so many facilities for so much delight. Not so
easily could her partners forget her,--the girlish face,
sometimes grave with its own enjoyment, and then--'bright as a
constellation!'--declared Mr. Simms; the grace of manner which
kept its distance well; the diaphonous dress which floated
around her like a golden haze; the scarlet flowers in her
hair. Never had she danced, never looked, more thoroughly
herself.

There are times when we get a lesson from without,--there are
others when it must come from within; and Mr. Rollo, who had
given the first, was now to see his work finished by the
second. Wych Hazel was wrong, he was there; but he had come
late, and if any of the dancers saw him they kept it hush; so
that he looked on at his ward without her knowledge. But it
must be noted as an instance of the perversity of Mr. Rollo's
mind, that the more thoroughly he perceived the difference
between Wych Hazel and her companions, the less he liked to
have her