, but there, hidden beneath the soft
lace upon her snowy neck, lies that "knot of ribbon blue" which she so
laughingly had given him, at his urging, the last day of her visit the
previous year; the knot which he had so loyally treasured and then so
sadly returned. A trifling, senseless thing to make such an ado about,
but these hearts are young and ardent, and this romance of his has many
a counterpart, the memory of which may bring to war-worn, grizzled
heads to-day a blush almost of shame, and would surely bring to many an
old and sometimes aching heart a sigh. Hoping against hope, poor Nannie
has thought it just possible that at the last moment the authorities
would relent and he be allowed to attend. If so,--if so, angry and
justly angered though he might be, cut to the heart though he expressed
himself, has she not here the means to call him back?--to bid him come
and know how contrite she is? Hour after hour she glances at the broad
archway at the east, yearning to see his dark, handsome face among the
new-comers,--all in vain. Time and again she encounters Sallie Waring,
brilliant, bewitching, in the most ravishing of toilets, and always with
half a dozen men about her. Twice she notices Will among them with a
face gloomy and rebellious, and, hardly knowing why, she almost hates
her.

At last comes the waltz that was to have been Philip's,--the waltz she
has saved for his sake though he cannot claim it. Mr. Pennock, who has
danced the previous galop with her, sees the leader raising his baton,
bethinks him of his next partner, and leaves her at the open window
close to the dressing-room door. There she can have a breath of fresh
air, and, hiding behind the broad backs of several bulky officers and
civilians, listen undisturbed to the music she longed to enjoy with him.
Here, to her surprise, Will suddenly joins her.

"I thought you were engaged to Miss Waring for this," she says.

"I was," he answers, savagely; "but I'm well out of it. I resigned in
favor of a big 'cit' who's worth only twenty thousand a year, Nan, and
she has been engaged to him all this time and never let me know until
to-night."

"_Willy!_" she gasps. "Oh! I'm so glad--sorry, I mean! I never _did_
like her."

"_I_ did, Nan, more's the pity. I'm not the first she's made a fool of;"
and he turns away, hiding the chagrin in his young face. They are
practically alone in this sheltered nook. Crowds are around them, but
looking the other way.