was very cold and hard, but it changed as he recognized her.

"At last," he said happily, as he led her away.

"At last," she echoed, with a little sigh. "Do you want to dance?" she
asked. "It is so hot; let us go and sit down somewhere."

Almost by accident they came to the place where Hermione had sat with
Alexander. There was no one there, and they installed themselves upon
the same sofa.

"I thought you were never coming," said Paul. "After all, what does it
matter whether people see us together or not? I never can understand
what amusement there is, after the first five minutes, in rushing about
in a domino and trying to mystify people."

"No," answered Hermione, "it is not very amusing. I would much rather
sit quietly and talk with some one I know and who knows me."

"I want to tell you something to-night, dear," said Paul, after a short
silence. "Do you mind if I tell you now?"

"No bad news?" asked Hermione, rather nervously.

"No. It is simply this: I have made up my mind that I must speak to your
father to-morrow. Do not be startled, darling. This position cannot
last. I am not acting an honorable part, and he expects me to ask him
the question. I know you have objected to my going to him for a long
time, but I feel that the thing must be done. There can be no good
objection to our marriage,--Mr. Carvel made Griggs understand that. Tell
me, is there any real reason why I should not speak?"

Hermione turned her head away. Under the long sleeves of her domino her
small hands were tightly clasped together.

"Is there any reason, dear?" repeated Paul, very gently. But as her
silence continued his lips set themselves firmly, and his face grew
slowly pale.

"Will you please speak, darling?" he said, in changed tones. "I am very
nervous," he added, with a short, harsh laugh.

"Oh--Paul! Don't!" cried Hermione. Her voice seemed to choke her as she
spoke. Then she took courage, and continued more calmly: "Please, please
wait a little longer,--it is such a risk!"

Paul laughed again, almost roughly.

"A risk! What risk? Your father has done all but give his formal
consent. What possible danger can there be?"

"No. Not from him,--it is not that!"

"Well, what is it? Hermione, what in the name of Heaven is the matter?
Speak, darling! Tell me what it is. I cannot bear this much longer."
Indeed, the man's suppressed passion was on the very point of breaking
out, and the blue light quivered in his eyes, wh