rated:

"Sleep, my little one, sleep,--
Sleep, my pretty one,--sleep."

When she was his wife, how often in the blessed evenings spent here,
in this hallowed room, he promised himself he would make her sing
that song. No shadow of doubt that whenever he chose, he could win
her for his own, clouded the brightness of the vision, for success in
other pursuits had fed his vanity, until he believed himself
invincible; and although he had studied her character closely, he
failed to comprehend fully the proud obstinacy latent in her quiet
nature.

Just then even the Chief Justiceship seemed an inferior prize, in
comparison with the possession of that white-browed girl, and her
pure clinging love; and certainly for a time Mr. Erle Palma's
towering pride and insatiable ambition were forgotten in his longing
to snatch the one beloved of all his arid life to the heart that was
throbbing almost beyond even his rigid control.

For the first time within his recollection he distrusted his power of
self-restraint, and rising passed quickly into his own room, and
thence after some moments out into the hall. Near the stairs he met
the mulatto nurse carrying Llora in her arms.

"Does Mrs. Carew permit that child to sit up so late?"

"Oh no, sir! She has been asleep once; but Miss Regina pets her a
good deal, and had her in the library singing to her."

"Mr. Palma, shall I kiss you good-night?" asked the pretty creole,
lifting her curly head from her "mammie's" shoulder.

"Good-night, Llora. Such tender birds should have been in their nests
long before this. I shall go and scold Miss Orme for keeping you
awake so late."

He merely patted her rosy round cheek, and went to the library.

Hearing his unmistakable step, Regina conjectured that he had
escorted the ladies home much earlier than they were accustomed to
return, and longing to avoid the possibility of a _tete-a-tete_ with
him, she would gladly have escaped before his entrance had been
practicable.

He closed the door, and came forward, and, leaning back in the chair
where she still sat, her hands closed tightly over each other.

"I fear my ward is learning to keep late hours. It is after eleven
o'clock, and you should be dreaming of the cool, beryl, aquatic
abodes you have been frequenting as Undine; for indeed you look a
very weary naiad."

Was he pleased with her success, and would he deem to give her a
morsel of commendation?