lightness, "Why, sir, do you complain
of not being flattered? I thought such complaints were made only by
women, and only to their own hearts."

"If by flattery," said he, "you mean merited compliment, there are
women who can never have occasion to complain of not receiving it."

"Indeed? When was that discovery made?"

"A minute ago, madam."

"Oh!" and she smiled with just such graciousness as a woman might show
in accepting a compliment from a comparative stranger. "Thank you!"

"When I think of it," said he, "it seems strange that you--ah--never
took pains to--eh--to appear at your best--nay, I should say, as your
real self!--before me."

"Oh, you allude to my wearing this gown? Why, you must pardon my not
having received you ceremoniously. _Your_ visit began unexpectedly."

"Then somebody else is about to begin a visit that _is_ expected?"

"Didn't you know? I thought all the house was aware Major Colden was
to return in a week. He may be here to-night, though perhaps not till
to-morrow."

"Confound that man!" This to himself, and then, to her: "I was of the
impression you did not love him."

"Why, what gave you that impression?"

"No matter. It seems I was wrong."

"Oh, I don't say that,--or that you're right, either."

"However," quoth he, with an inward sigh of resignation, "it is for
_him_ that you are dressed as you never were for me!"

She did not choose to ask what reason had existed for considering him
in selecting her attire. It was better not to notice his presumption,
and she became more absorbed in her music.

Peyton strode up and down a few moments, then sat by the table, and
rested his cheek on his hand, wearing a somewhat injured look.

"Major Colden, eh?" he mused. "To think I should come upon him again!"
He essayed to renew conversation. "I trust, Miss Philipse, when I am
gone--" But Elizabeth was now oblivious of surroundings; the notes
from the spinet became louder, and she began to hum the air in a low,
agreeable voice. Peyton looked hopeless. Presently he stood up again,
watching her.

Elizabeth brought the piece to a lively finish, rose capriciously,
took up the flowers she had laid on the spinet earlier in the evening,
put them in her corsage, and made to readjust the bracelet on her
right arm. In this attempt, she accidentally dropped the bracelet to
the floor. Peyton ran to pick it up. But she quickly recovered it
before he could reach it, put it on, walked to the table