something flattering, at first, to a gentle and
peaceable man in the notion of being terrible to any one; Elmore melted
at these words, and at the fear that he might have been, in some way
that he could not think of, really harsh.

"I should be very sorry to distress her," he began.

"Well, you haven't distressed her yet," his wife relented. "Only you
must be careful not to. She was going to be very circumspect, Owen, on
your account, for she really appreciates the interest you take in her,
and I think she sees that it won't do to be at all free with strangers
over here. This ball will be a great education for Lily,--a _great_
education. I'm going to commence a letter to Sue about her costume, and
all that, and leave it open to finish up when Lily gets home."

When she went to bed, she did not sleep till after the time when the
girl ought to have come; and when she awoke to a late breakfast, Lily
had still not returned. By eleven o'clock she and Elmore had passed the
stage of accusing themselves, and then of accusing each other, for
allowing Lily to go in the way they had; and had come to the question of
what they had better do, and whether it was practicable to send to the
Spanish consulate and ask what had become of her. They had resigned
themselves to waiting for one half-hour longer, when they heard her
voice at the water-gate, gayly forbidding Hoskins to come up; and
running out upon the balcony, Mrs. Elmore had a glimpse of the
courtier, very tawdry by daylight, re-entering his gondola, and had only
time to turn about when Lily burst laughing into the room.

"Oh, don't look at me, Professor Elmore!" she cried. "I'm literally
danced to rags!"

Her dress and hair were splashed with drippings from the wax candles;
she was wildly decorated with favors from the German, and one of these
had been used to pin up a rent which the spur of a hussar had made in
her robe; her hair had escaped from its fastenings during the night, and
in putting it back she had broken the star in her fillet; it was now
kept in place by a bit of black-and-yellow cord which an officer had
lent her. "He said he should claim it of me the first time we met," she
exclaimed excitedly. "Why, Professor Elmore," she implored with a laugh,
"don't look at me _so_!"

Grief and indignation were in his heart. "You look like the spectre of
last night," he said with dreamy severity, and as if he saw her merely
as a vision.

"Why, that's the way I _feel