half-blown Baron Provost rose, just where
two long glossy curls crept down. The puffed sleeves, scarcely
reaching the elbows, displayed the finely rounded white arms, and the
exactness with which the airy muslin fitted her form, showed its
symmetrical outline to the greatest advantage.

Muriel touched her guardian, and whispered,--

"Did you ever see Salome look so beautiful? Her coiffure to-night is
almost Parisian, and how very becoming!"

Dr. Grey was studying the innocent, happy countenance of his
unsuspecting ward, and he could not repress a sigh, when, turning his
eyes towards Salome, he noticed the undisguised admiration in Mr.
Granville's earnest gaze.

A nameless dread made him take Muriel's hand and lead her to the
piano.

"Play something for me. I am music-hungry."

"Is Saul sad to-night?" she asked, smiling up at him.

"A little fatigued and perplexed, and anxious to have his cares
exorcised by the magic of your fingers."

With womanly tact she selected a _fantasia_ which Mr. Granville had
often pronounced the gem of her _repertoire_, and momentarily expected
to hear his whispered thanks; but page after page was turned, and
still her lover did not approach the piano, where Dr. Grey stood with
folded arms and slightly contracted brows. Muriel played brilliantly,
and was pardonably proud of her proficiency, which Mr. Granville had
confessed first attracted his attention; and to-night, when the piece
was concluded and she commenced a _Polonaise_, she looked over her
shoulder hoping to meet a grateful, fond glance. But his eyes were
riveted on the fair rosy face at his side, and his betrothed bit her
pouting lip and made sundry blunders.

As she rose from the piano-stool, Mr. Granville exclaimed,--

"Miss Muriel, you love music so well that I trust you will add your
persuasions to mine, and induce Miss Owen to sing for us, as she
declares she is comparatively a tyro in instrumental music, and would
not venture to perform in your presence."

"She has never sung for me, but I hope she will not refuse your
request. Salome, will you not oblige us?"

Muriel's eyes were dim with tears, but her sweet voice did not
falter.

"I was not aware that you sang at all," said Miss Dexter, looking up
from a mat which she was crocheting.

"She has a fine voice, but is very obstinate in declining to use it.
Come, Salome, don't be childish, dear. Sing something," coaxed Miss
Jane.

The girl waited a few second