g of ladies round the spot. In a moment it was whispered
that somebody had fallen ill, and in another that the sufferer was Miss
De Stancy. Paula, Mrs. Goodman, and Somerset at once joined the group of
friends who were assisting her. Neither of them imagined for an instant
that the unexpected advent of Somerset on the scene had anything to do
with the poor girl's indisposition.

She was assisted out of the room, and her brother, who now came up,
prepared to take her home, Somerset exchanging a few civil words with
him, which the hurry of the moment prevented them from continuing;
though on taking his leave with Charlotte, who was now better, De Stancy
informed Somerset in answer to a cursory inquiry, that he hoped to be
back again at the ball in half-an-hour.

When they were gone Somerset, feeling that now another dog might have
his day, sounded Paula on the delightful question of a dance.

Paula replied in the negative.

'How is that?' asked Somerset with reproachful disappointment.

'I cannot dance again,' she said in a somewhat depressed tone; 'I must
be released from every engagement to do so, on account of Charlotte's
illness. I should have gone home with her if I had not been particularly
requested to stay a little longer, since it is as yet so early, and
Charlotte's illness is not very serious.'

If Charlotte's illness was not very serious, Somerset thought, Paula
might have stretched a point; but not wishing to hinder her in showing
respect to a friend so well liked by himself, he did not ask it. De
Stancy had promised to be back again in half-an-hour, and Paula had
heard the promise. But at the end of twenty minutes, still seeming
indifferent to what was going on around her, she said she would stay no
longer, and reminding Somerset that they were soon to meet and talk over
the rebuilding, drove off with her aunt to Stancy Castle.

Somerset stood looking after the retreating carriage till it was
enveloped in shades that the lamps could not disperse. The ball-room
was now virtually empty for him, and feeling no great anxiety to return
thither he stood on the steps for some minutes longer, looking into
the calm mild night, and at the dark houses behind whose blinds lay the
burghers with their eyes sealed up in sleep. He could not but think that
it was rather too bad of Paula to spoil his evening for a sentimental
devotion to Charlotte which could do the latter no appreciable good; and
he would have felt ser