to be met in their social circle.

At first his notice had flattered Elizabeth and pleased her. It was
just what she had thought she wanted. There had been very little of
such pleasant experiences in her life. She had been a spectator of
many pretty romances, but had always stood on the outer edge of the
enchanted land, longing, yet fearing to enter. Looking back she had to
confess that Horace Oliver had produced her only romance, and now
Horace was gone. Some of the young men she met in the fashionable
world attracted her at first, and finally bored her. Often some one of
them, captivated by her star-like eyes and her vivacity, would single
her out for special favors, and be met with great cordiality. Then
suddenly, to Mrs. Jarvis's disgust, Elizabeth would grow weary of him
and take no pains to hide her feelings. The young men soon ceased to
run the risk of being so treated. "Miss Gordon was eccentric," they
said, "and besides had a sharp tongue." Elizabeth noticed wistfully
that all possible suitors drifted away and wondered what was the matter
with her.

But Mr. Huntley promised to be entirely constant, and his intentions
grew more obvious every day.

He was almost a middle-aged man now, and not likely to have passing
fancies. But here as elsewhere Elizabeth found herself behaving in an
unexpected fashion. She told herself that Mrs. Jarvis was right, and
that if Mr. Huntley asked her to marry him she would indeed be a
fortunate young woman, and yet when he came to their apartments in
Crescent Court she was always seized with a wild desire to run away to
Jean and the boys.

Nevertheless she reveled in the idea of being loved, and as long ago
she had striven to put her pretty teacher upon a pedestal for
worshipping, just because a teacher was always a glorified being, so
she sought to surround Mr. Huntley's rather pompous middle-aged figure
with the rose mist of her girlish dreams. For Elizabeth wanted to be
loved more than anything else in the wide world.

And so the winter sped away in days crammed with pleasure-seeking, and
the light of Mother MacAllister's teaching had almost faded from
Elizabeth's life. But just as it had grown too dim to be seen by
mortal eye, there came softly stealing into her heart the first hint of
that dawn which was soon to break over her spirit and melt the
gathering clouds of uselessness and selfishness. Slowly and almost
imperceptibly the day was advancing, just as