o make a scene. Are you going to ask me to dance, Rupert?
because, if you are," said Miss Everard, adjusting her bracelet, "you
had better do it at once, as I am going back to the ball-room, and after
I once appear there, you will stand no chance amongst the crowd of
competitors. But, then, perhaps you belong to Miss Jocyln?"

"Not at all," Miss Jocyln interposed hastily, and reddening a little, "I
am engaged; and it is time I was back, or my unlucky cavalier will be at
his wit's end to find me."

She swept away with a quicker movement than usual, and Sir Rupert
laughingly gave his piquant little partner his arm. His notions of
propriety were a good deal shocked; but then it was only May Everard,
and May Everard was one of those exceptional people who can do pretty
much as they please, and not surprise any one. They went back to the
ball-room, the fairy in pink on the arm of the young baronet, chattering
like a magpie. Miss Jocyln's partner found her and led her off, but Miss
Jocyln was very silent and _distrait_ all the rest of the night, and
watched furtively, but incessantly, the fluttering pink fairy. She had
reigned belle hitherto, but sparkling little May, like an embodied
sunbeam, electrified the room, and took the crown and the sceptre by
royal right. Sir Rupert had that one dance, and no more--Miss Everard's
own prophecy was true--the demand for her was such that even the son of
the house stood not the shadow of chance.

Miss Jocyln held herself aloof from the young baronet for the remaining
hours of the ball. She had known as well as he the words that were on
his lips when May Everard interposed; and her eyes flashed, and her dark
cheeks flushed dusky red to see how easily he had been deterred from his
purpose. For him, he sought her once or twice in a desultory sort of
way, never observing that he was purposely avoided, wandering
contentedly back to devote himself to some one else, and in the pauses
to watch May Everard floating--a sunbeam in a sunny cloud--here and
there, and everywhere.

CHAPTER IX.

GUY LEGARD.

"He meant to have spoken that night; he would have spoken but for May
Everard. And yet that is two weeks ago, and we have been together since,
and"----Aileen Jocyln broke off abruptly, and looked out over the far
spreading gray sea.

The morning was dull; the leaden sky threatening rain; the wind sighing
fitfully, and the slow, gray sea creeping up the gray sands. Aileen
Jocyln sat