d fixed his eyes upon it, with an admiration which was not lost upon
the lady.

"Heavens!" cried Moultrie, laughing and looking at them. "You are both
two more and too much for me."

"Good, good, good for Moultrie!" applauded Abel; "and now, Miss Plumer, I
submit that he has the floor."

"Very well, Mr. Moultrie. What are the two other things that you talk?"

"Pansies and rosemary," said the young man, rising and bowing himself
out.

"Miss Plumer, you have been the inspiration of my friend Sligo, who was
never so brilliant in his life before. How generous in you to rise and
shine on this wretched town! It is Sahara. Miss Plumer descends upon it
like dew. Where have you been?"

"At home, in Louisiana."

"Ah! yes. Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle--I have never
been there; but it comes to me here when you come, Miss Plumer."

Still the slight persiflage to cover the audacity.

"And so, Mr. Newt, I have the honor of seeing the gentleman of whom I
have heard most this winter."

"What will not our enemies say of us, Miss Plumer?"

"You have no enemies," replied she, "except, perhaps--no, I'll not
mention them."

"Who? who? I insist," said Abel, looking at Grace Plumer earnestly for a
moment, then dropping his eyes upon her very pretty and very be-ringed
white hands, where the eyes lingered a little and worshipped in the most
evident manner.

"Except, then, your own sex," said the little Louisianian, half blushing.

"I do them no harm," replied Abel.

"No; but you make them jealous."

"Jealous of what?" returned the young man, in a lower tone, and more
seriously.

"Oh! it's only of--of--of--of what I hear from the girls," said Grace,
fluttering a little, as she remembered the conservatory at Mrs. Boniface
Newt's, which also Abel had not forgotten.

"And what do you hear, Miss Grace?" he asked, in pure music.

Grace blushed, and laughed.

"Oh! only of your success with poor, feeble women," said she.

"I have no success with women," returned Abel Newt, in a half-serious
way, and in his most melodious voice. "Women are naturally generous. They
appreciate and acknowledge an honest admiration, even when it is only
honest."

"Only honest! What more could it be, Mr. Newt?"

"It might be eloquent. It might be fascinating and irresistible. Even
when a man does not really admire, his eloquence makes him dangerous. If,
when he truly admires, he were also eloquent, he would be irresistible.
Ther