lt, Leo had fastened the exquisite
roses, noting the perfect harmony of her costume, as she smoothed the
folds of the sapphire velvet robe which she knew that Mr. Dunbar
particularly admired. The lofty, beautiful room was aglow with rich
color from oriental rugs strewn about the marble floor, from masses of
hyacinths and crimson camellias in stands, baskets, vases; from
brilliant tropical birds flitting to and fro; and through the gilt
wire vista of the aviary, the fountain in the peristyle beyond threw up
its silvery hands to arrest attention, and softly beat time to the
music of the gold and green canaries. The large white owl with wide,
prescient, berylline eyes, rose suddenly, and on slow wings circled
round and round, flying gradually to the ceiling of the dome, then
swooped back to its perch; and the Siberian hound, a huge, dun-hued
creature, lifted his head from the velvet rug and rubbed it against his
mistress' dress.

As the sound of a step she knew so well, rang in the vestibule, the
blood leaped to Leo's cheeks, but she walked quickly forward, and met
her visitor just beneath the "Salve" in the scroll of olives, putting
out her hands across the onyx table with its red and black bowl of
violets. Thus at arm's length, she held him a moment.

"I am very glad to see you; and I wish you a happy birthday, hoping
your new year may be as bright as the sun that ushers it in; and as
full of fragrance as these lovely roses, which I wear in honor of the
day."

Hand in hand, she smiled up into his handsome face, and certainly he
had never looked more kingly, more worthy of her homage.

"Thank you, dear Leo. The light and sweetness of my future can be
blotted out, only by losing you. You must be the fulfilment of your own
kind wishes."

He raised her left hand, kissed it lightly, and as she withdrew her
fingers and resumed her seat, in front of an ottoman ablaze with a
tangled mass of brilliant Berlin wool, he sat down at her side.

Ere she was aware of his intention, he pushed the ottoman beyond her
reach, and dexterously catching her hand, took the gold thimble from
her finger and dropped it into his vest pocket.

"Perish the fetich of needle-work, crochet and knitting! To-day at
least it shall not come between us;--and I claim your eyes, your
undivided attention. Now tell me how many of my rivals, how many
audacious suitors you have held at bay, by these gay Penelope webs
woven in my absence?"

"Has Ul