rd the door
through which Ada had disappeared. Lucy followed him, vexed beyond
measure that the despised Ada Harcourt should even have attracted his
attention.

"Is she as accomplished as handsome?" asked he.

"Why, of course not," answered Lucy, with a forced laugh. "Poverty,
ignorance, and vulgarity go together, usually, I believe."

St. Leon gave her a rapid, searching glance, in which disappointment
was mingled, but before he could reply there was the sound of music.
It was a sweet, bird-like voice which floated through the rooms, and
the song it sang was a favorite one of St. Leon's, who was
passionately fond of music.

"Let us go nearer," said he to Lucy, who, nothing loath, accompanied
him, for she, too, was anxious to know who it was that thus chained
each listener into silence.

St. Leon at length got a sight of the singer, and said with evident
pleasure, "Why, it's Miss Harcourt!"

"Miss Harcourt! Ada Harcourt!" exclaimed Lucy. "Impossible! Why, her
mother daily toils for the bread they eat!"

But if St. Leon heard her, he answered not. His senses were locked in
those strains of music which recalled memories of something, he
scarcely knew what, and Lucy found herself standing alone, her heart
swelling with anger toward Ada, who from that time was her hated
rival. The music ceased, but scores of voices were loud in their call
for another song; and again Ada sang, but this time there was in the
tones of her voice a thrilling power, for which those who listened
could not account. To Ada the atmosphere about her seemed charmed,
for though she never for a moment raised her eyes, she well knew who
it was that leaned upon the piano and looked intently upon her. Again
the song was finished, and then at St. Leon's request he was
introduced to the singer, who returned his salutation with perfect
self-possession, although her heart beat quickly, as she hoped, yet
half-feared, that that he would recognize her. But he did not, and as
they passed together into the next room he wondered much why the hand
which lay upon his arm trembled so violently, while Ada said to
herself, "'Tis not strange he doesn't know me by this name." Whether
St. Leon knew her or not, there seemed about her some strong
attraction, which kept him at her side the remainder of the evening,
greatly to Lucy Dayton's mortification and displeasure.

"I'll be revenged on her yet," she muttered. "The upstart! I wonder
where she learned to play."