e grogneuse_."

"Do Monsieur and Madame La Touche know?"

"Certainly not. _Mon Dieu!_ We are too young. Jules is only twenty, and
I eighteen. We must wait; but I love him to distraction, and he adores
me! Tra-la-la!"

She seized the cat once more, and went whirling round the room.

Her waltz was suddenly interrupted.

A gentleman, young, tall, and stately, stood, hat in hand, in the
doorway, regarding her.

"Don't let me intrude," said the gentleman, politely advancing. "Don't
let me interrupt anybody, I beg!"

Grace arose, smiling.

"Rose, let me present my brother, Doctor Danton! Frank, Miss Rose
Danton!"

Miss Rose dropped the kitten and her eyes, and made an elaborate
curtsey.

"My entrance spoiled a very pretty tableau," said the Doctor, "and
disappointed pussy, I am afraid. Pray, continue your waltz, Miss Rose,
and don't mind me."

"I don't," said Rose, carelessly, "my waltz was done, and I have to
dress."

She ran out of the room, but put her head in again directly.

"Grace!"

"Yes!"

"Will you come and curl my hair by-and-by?"

"No, I haven't time."

"What shall I do, then? Babette tears it out by the roots."

"I am not busy," said the Doctor, blandly. "I haven't much experience in
curling young ladies' hair, but I am very willing to learn."

"You are very kind," said his sister, "but we can dispense with your
services. You might get Eunice, I dare say, Rose; she has nothing else
to do."

"Who's Eunice?"

"Your sister's maid; you can ring for her; she understands hair-dressing
better than Babette."

Rose ran up stairs. At the front window of the upper hall stood Ogden
and Eunice.

Rose nodded familiarly to the valet, and turned to the girl.

"Are you Eunice?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Are you busy?"

"No, Miss."

"Then come into my room, please, and comb my hair."

Eunice followed the young lady, and Ogden returned to the mysterious
regions occupied by Mr. Richards.

Once more the house was still; its one disturbing element was having her
hair curled; and Grace and her brother talked in peace below stairs.

It was past luncheon-hour when the barouche rolled up to the door. Kate,
all aglow from her drive in the frosty air, stopped her laughing chat
with pale Eeny at the sight which met her eyes. Standing on the portico
steps, playing with a large dog Kate had reason to know, and
flirting--it looked like flirting--with the dog's master, stood a
radiant vision, a rounded girlish