is buttonhole.

The ball was a brilliant affair, and everybody was in excellent spirits,
especially the ladies. Ralph danced incessantly, twirled his soft
mustache, and uttered amiable platitudes. It was toward midnight, just
as the company was moving out to supper, that he caught the glance of a
pair of dark-blue eyes, which suddenly drove the blood to his cheeks
and hastened the beating of his heart. But when he looked once more the
dark-blue eyes were gone, and his unruly heart went on hammering against
his side. He laid his hand on his breast and glanced furtively at his
fair neighbor, but she looked happy and unconcerned, for the flavor of
the ice cream was delicious. It seemed an endless meal, but, when it
was done, Ralph rose, led his partner back to the ballroom, and hastily
excused himself. His glance wandered round the wide hall, seeking the
well-remembered eyes once more, and, at length, finding them in a remote
corner, half hid behind a moving wall of promenaders. In another moment
he was at Bertha's side.

"You must have been purposely hiding yourself, Miss Bertha," said he,
when the usual greetings were exchanged. "I have not caught a glimpse of
you all this evening, until a few moments ago."

"But I have seen you all the while," answered the girl, frankly. "I knew
you at once as I entered the hall."

"If I had but known that you were here," resumed Ralph, as it were
invisibly expanding with an agreeable sense of dignity, "I assure you
you would have been the very first one I should have sought."

She raised her large grave eyes to his, as if questioning his sincerity;
but she made no answer.

"Good gracious!" thought Ralph. "She takes things terribly in earnest."

"You look so serious, Miss Bertha," said he, after a moment's pause. "I
remember you as a bright-eyed, flaxen-haired little girl, who threw her
German exercise-book to me across the yard, and whose merry laughter
still rings pleasantly in my memory, I confess I don't find it quite
easy to identify this grave young lady with my merry friend of three
years ago."

"In other words, you are disappointed at not finding me the same as I
used to be."

"No, not exactly that; but--"

Ralph paused and looked puzzled. There was something in the earnestness
of her manner which made a facetious compliment seem grossly
inappropriate, and in the moment no other escape suggested itself.

"But what?" demanded Bertha, mercilessly.

"Have you ever lo