-these jewels and silks I might have worn! I might
have reigned like a queen in this stately house if I had only done
right!"

But it was too late, and Mrs. Stanford had to keep up appearances, and
smiles, though the serpents of envy and regret gnawed at her vitals. It
was very gay there! Life seemed all made up of music, and dancing, and
feasting, and mirth, and skating, and sleighing, and dressing, and
singing. Life went like a fairy spectacle, or an Eastern drama, or an
Arcadian dream--with care, and trial, and trouble, monsters unknown even
by name.

Mme. Jules La Touche played the role with charming grace--a little shy,
as became her youth and inexperience, but only the more charming for
that. They were very, very happy together, this quiet young pair--loving
one another very dearly, as you could see, and looking forward hopefully
to a future that was to be without a cloud.

Mrs. La Touche and Mrs. Stanford were very much admired in society, no
doubt; but people went into raptures over Mrs. Frank Danton. Such eyes,
such golden hair, such rare smiles, such queenly grace, such singing,
such playing--surely nature had created this darling of hers in a
gracious mood, and meted out to her a double portion of her favours. You
might think other ladies--those younger sisters of hers
included--beautiful until she came; and then that stately presence, that
bewitching brightness and grace, eclipsed them as the sun eclipses
stars.

"What a lucky fellow Danton is!" said the men. "One doesn't see such a
superb woman once in a century."

And Doctor Frank heard it, and smiled, as he smoked his meerschaum, and
thought so too.

* * * * *

And so we leave them. Kate is happy; Eeny reigns right royally in her
Ottawa home; and Rose--well, poor Rose has no home, and flits about
between St. Croix, and Montreal, and Ottawa, all the year round. She
calls Danton Hall home, but she spends most of her time with Kate. It is
not so sumptuous, of course, as at Ottawa, in the rising young Doctor's
home; but she is not galled every moment of the day by the poignant
regrets that lacerate her heart at Eeny's. She hears of her husband
occasionally, as he wanders through the Continent, and the chain that
binds her to him galls her day and night. Little Reginald, able to trot
about on his own sturdy legs now, accompanies her in her migratory
flights, and is petted to death wherever he goes. He has come to grief