one, and could she resist
the family and the social pressure? Few women could, few women do,
effectively resist under such circumstances. With one of a tender heart,
duty often takes the most specious and deceiving forms. In yielding to
the impulses of her heart, which in her inexperience may be mistaken,
has a girl the right--from a purely rational point of view--to set
herself against, nay, to destroy, the long-cherished ambitions of her
parents for a brilliant social career for her, founded upon social
traditions of success? For what had Mr. Mavick toiled? For what had Mrs.
Mavick schemed all these years? Could the girl throw herself away? Such
disobedience, such disregard for social law, would seem impossible to
her mother.

Some of the events that preceded the Mavick ball throw light upon that
interesting function. After the departure of Miss McDonald, Mrs. Mavick,
in one of her confidential talks with her proposed son-in-law, confessed
that she experienced much relief. An obstacle seemed to be removed.

In fact, Evelyn rather surprised her mother by what seemed a calm
acceptance of the situation. There was no further outburst. If the girl
was often preoccupied and seemed listless, that was to be expected, on
the sudden removal of the companion of her lifetime.

But she did not complain. She ceased after a while to speak of McDonald.
If she showed little enthusiasm in what was going on around her, she was
compliant, she fell in at once with her mother's suggestions, and went
and came in an attitude of entire obedience.

"It isn't best for you to keep up a correspondence, my dear, now that
you know that McDonald is nicely settled--all reminiscent correspondence
is very wearing--and, really, I am more than delighted to see that you
are quite capable of walking alone. Do you know, Evelyn, that I am more
and more proud of you every day, as my daughter. I don't dare to tell
you half the nice things that are said of you. It would make you vain."
And the proud mother kissed her affectionately. The letters ceased. If
the governess wrote, Evelyn did not see the letters.

As the days went by, Lord Montague, in high and confident spirits,
became more and more a familiar inmate of the house. Daily he sent
flowers to Evelyn; he contrived little excursions and suppers; he was
marked in his attentions wherever they went. "He is such a dear fellow,"
said Mrs. Mavick to one of her friends; "I don't know how we should get
on wi