ry good to me! I was tired; I am glad
to have this rest--and with you, Mr. Young!"

I am permeated with the deliciousness of the situation! I am conscious
of the magnetic something about me, drawing him near to me! I can almost
feel his hot, quick breath on my cheek where the color comes and goes.
He is within my power! But I do not love him. With an effort I banish
the tender manner. My voice, now a trifle cold, asserts itself in clear,
even tones: "Let us return; I am rested now. Mr. Seyhmoor claims me for
the next dance!"

The spell is broken! Calburt Young does not understand! He is wise, but
I--I am a woman, and a woman of the world. But he does not reproach me.
How can he? I have not allowed him to say a word of love to me. I have
been environed not only with flowers, colored lights, and sweet music,
but also with the harmless platitudes of speech. I whirl away into the
dance with Henry Seyhmoor! I have been boldly flirting,

=Flirting for Revenue Only=.

Sometimes I am not so successful in this avoidance of exactly what I
have skillfully brought out. Sometimes this policy leads to a proposal.
The tide grows too strong. The man breaks down the barrier, but what
good does it do? I have maintained a high protective tariff; there is
nothing tangible which he can produce against me; there is never any
thing which he can _say_ against me; and if I have been ordinarily
skillful and cautious there is absolutely nothing for him to
_think_, but "How good she has been to me; how delicately,
tenderly, she has tried to avoid giving me pain!"

At the start, my first season out, it was a hard policy to follow, and I
would often spend a sleepless hour, after the man had said "good-night!"
But those foolish old days have gone, and with them the early freshness
of my youth, although the _appearance_ remains. I have seen so many
men promptly revive beneath the showers of another woman's glance
and of another woman's tender--perhaps like mine--unmeant words, mere
platitudes, platitudes effectual, intangible. They are not sufficient
proof in any court of conscience, law, or public opinion. They are the
glorious privileges of a woman who is a Private Corporation,

=Flirting for Revenue Only=.

Robert Fairfield! There is a magic something in the very name itself.
And the man! ah, after all, old things are best. My heart never knew a
sensation--the quick, throbbing something which we call _love_--until
I met him, when ha