so be used as a ball-room, and on
the other an admirable bowling-alley and racket-court for the use of the
members. The band was playing gay music; a hum of conversation filled
the air; pretty girls in white or blue or rose color were moving about;
the wind drew with delicious coolness through the galleries; altogether
it would have been hard to find on a summer morning a prettier place or
a livelier scene.

Mrs. Gray was too much of a favorite not to be at once sought out. She
was soon the centre of a little group of friends; and Candace sat beside
her, silent as usual, but gazing with enchanted eyes at the animated
figures on the tennis ground, at the gables and loggias of the
restaurant building, at the curious clock-tower, with the heavy iron
rings depending above the base, and its top like a bellflower. It was
all like a fairy tale to her. Her imagination was actively at work, but
no one would have guessed it from her quiet little face; and when Mrs.
Gray introduced her to one person and another, she shrank into herself,
and after her shy little bow and "How do you do?" relapsed again into
stillness, and made no attempt to keep up a conversation. People were
kind; but it is always easy to secure solitude in a crowd, and Cannie
soon found herself let alone to her heart's content.

Gertrude was playing her best. Her nervousness had disappeared in the
excitement of the game, as Georgie had predicted that it would, and some
of her strokes were so clever as to win a little volley of applause from
the by-standers. Candace did not know the game well enough to appreciate
fine points of play, but she could perfectly appreciate the fun of
winning; and when Gertrude, flushed and radiant, came to show her mother
the prize she had won, a lace pin of gold filigree in the form of a
racket, Cannie's face lighted up with a bright sympathy which was
pleasant to see. A lady who had been watching her whispered to Mrs.
Gray, "What a sweet face that little niece of yours has!"

"So she has," replied Mrs. Gray; "only she is so very timid. She never
does herself justice."

"Is it timidity? I had a fancy that she had an unhappy temper, or was
troubled about something. Her face has always seemed so sad and
overcast till just now, when it lit up at Gertrude's good fortune, and
then I caught the true expression."

Mrs. Gray recollected this remark as she drove home with Candace, who,
perfectly at ease now that she was alone with her cous