that beloved and lovely
young face, and quite 'filling up,' as the saying is, 'there is not your
peer on earth--no--not one among them all to compare with our Miss
Lilias,' and she paused, smiling, and then she said--'But, my darling,
sure you know you weren't outside the door this five weeks.'

'And is not that long enough, and too long, to shut me up, you cruel old
woman? Come, come, Sally, girl, I'm resolved, and to the ball I'll go;
don't be frightened. I'll cover my head, and send in for Aunt Becky, and
only just peep in, muffled up, for ten minutes; and I'll go and come in
the chair, and what harm can I take by it?'

Was it spirit? Did she want to show the folk that she did not shrink
from meeting somebody; or that, though really ill, she ventured to peep
in, through sheer liking for the scrape of the fiddle, and the fun, to
show them that at least she was not heart-sick? Or was it the mysterious
attraction, the wish to see him once more, just through her hood, far
away, with an unseen side glance, and to build endless speculations, and
weave the filmy web of hope, for who knows how long, out of these airy
tints, a strange, sad smile, or deep, wild glance, just seen and fixed
for ever in memory? She had given him up in words, but her heart had not
given him up. Poor little Lily! She hoped all that was so bad in him
would one day mend. He was a hero still--and, oh! she hoped, would be
true to her. So Lily's love, she scarce knew how, lived on this
hope--the wildest of all wild hopes--waiting on the reformation of a
rake.

'But, darling Miss Lily, don't you know the poor master would break his
heart if he thought you could do such a wild thing as to go out again
'the doctors' orders, at this time o' night, and into that hot place,
and out again among the cold draughts.'

Little Lily paused.

''Tis only a step, Sally; do you honestly think it would vex him?'

'Vex him, darling? no, but break his heart. Why, he's never done asking
about you, and--oh! its only joking you are, my darling, that's all.'

'No, Sally, dear love, I meant it,' said little Lily, sadly; 'but I
suppose it was a wild thought, and I'm better at home.'

And she played a march that had somehow a dash of the pathetic in it, in
a sort of reverie, and she said:

'Sally, do you know that?'

And Sally's gentle face grew reflective, and she said:

'Sure, Miss Lily, that's the tune--isn't it--the Artillery plays when
they march out to the park