nvoy.

"No, no; I would rather stay here a little," returned Mrs. Paine, who
was not desirous of another promenade with the hero of the day. "Go
and fetch some one else, Dick: I am very well off where I am,"
exchanging an amused glance with one of her friends, as Dick, hot and
breathless, started off on another voyage of discovery.

Dick's behavior had been simply perfect all the afternoon in his
father's eyes; but later on, when the band struck up a set of
quadrilles, he committed his first solecism in manners: instead of
asking Lady Fitzroy to dance with him, he hurried after Nan.

"This is our dance; come along," he said, taking her unwilling hand;
but she held back a moment.

"Are you sure? Is there not some one else you ought to choose?--Lady
Fitzroy, for example?" questioned Nan, with admirable forethought.

"Bother Lady Fitzroy!" exclaimed Dick, under his breath; he had had
quite enough of that lady. "Why are you holding back, Nan, in this
fashion?" a cloud coming over his face. "Haven't you promised weeks
ago to give me the first dance?" And Nan, seeing the cloud on his
face, yielded without another word. Dick always managed to have his
own way somehow.

"Dick! Dick!" cried his father, in a voice of agony, as they passed
him.

"All in good time; coming presently," returned the scapegrace,
cheerfully. "Now, Nan, this is our place. We will have Hamilton and
Dulce for our _vis-a-vis_. What a jolly day; and isn't this
first-rate?" exclaimed Dick, rubbing his hands, and feeling as though
he were only just beginning to enjoy himself.

Nan was not quite so easy in her mind.

"Your father does not look very pleased. I am afraid, after all, you
ought to have asked Lady Fitzroy," she said, in a low voice; but Dick
turned a deaf ear. He showed her the rose in his buttonhole; and when
Nan told him it was withered, and wanted him to take it out, he gave
her a reproachful look that made her blush.

They were very happy after this; and, when the dance was over, Dick
gave her his arm, and carried her off to see Vigo, who was howling a
deep mournful bass at the back of the gardener's cottage.

Nan made friends with him, and stroked his black curly head, and
looked lovingly into his deep melancholy eyes; and then, as her
flowers were fading, they strolled off into the conservatory, where
Dick gathered her a fresh bouquet and then sat down and watched her
arrange it.

"What clever fingers you have got!" he said, lo