led to know how the ladies had
borne the fatigues of the feast, Mrs. Plumer said, with smiles, that it
was a kind of fatigue ladies bore without flinching. Miss Grace, who was
sitting upon a sofa by the side of Sligo Moultrie, said that it was one
of the feasts at which young women especially are supposed to be
perfectly happy. She emphasized the last words, and her bright black
eyes opened wide upon Mr. Abel Newt, who could not tell if he saw
mischievous malice or a secret triumph and sense release in them.

"Oh!" said he, gayly, "it would be too much for me hope to make any
ladies, and especially young ladies, perfectly happy."

And he returned Miss Plumer's look with a keen glance masked in
merriment.

Sligo Moultrie wagged his foot.

"There now is conscious power!" said Abel, with a laugh, as he pointed at
Miss Plumer's companion.

They all laughed, but not very heartily. There appeared to be some
meaning lurking in whatever was said; and like all half-concealed
meanings, it seemed, perhaps, even more significant than it really was.

Abel was very brilliant, and told more and better stories than usual.
Mrs. Plumer listened and laughed, and declared that he was certainly the
best company she had met for a long time. Nor were Miss Plumer and Mr.
Moultrie reluctant to join the conversation. In fact, Abel was several
times surprised by the uncommon spirit of Sligo's replies.

"What is it?" said Abel to himself, with a flash of the black eyes that
was startling.

All the evening he felt particularly belligerent toward Sligo Moultrie;
and yet a close observer would have discovered no occasion in the conduct
of the young man for such a feeling upon Abel's part. Mr. Moultrie sat
quietly by the side of Grace Plumer--"as if somehow he had a right to sit
there," thought Abel Newt, who resolved to discover if indeed he had a
right.

During that visit, however, he had no chance. Moultrie sat persistently,
and so did Abel. The clock pointed to eleven, and still they did not
move. It was fairly toward midnight when Abel rose to leave, and at the
same moment Sligo Moultrie rose also. Abel bade the ladies good-evening,
and passed out as if Moultrie were close by him. But that young man
remained standing by the sofa upon which Grace Plumer was seated, and
said quietly to Abel,

"Good-evening, Newt!"

Grace Plumer looked at him also, with the bright black eyes, and blushed.

For a moment Abel Newt's heart seemed to stan