d, "Maimie, your father has gone down; we must
not delay." The tone was incisive and matter-of-fact. It said to Maimie,
"Now let's have no nonsense. Be a sensible woman of the world." Maimie
rose from her knees. Hastily removing all traces of tears from her face,
and glancing in the glass, she touched the little ringlets into place
and went down to dinner.

It was a depressing meal. Mr. St. Clair was irritable; Harry perplexed
and sullen; Maimie nervously talkative. Mrs. Murray was heroically
holding herself in command, but the look of pain in her eyes and the
pathetic tremor on her lips belied the brave smiles and cheerful words
with which she seconded Aunt Frank.

After dinner the company separated, for there were still preparations
to make for the evening. As Mrs. Murray was going to her room, she met
Harry in the hall with his hat on.

"Where are you going, Harry?"

"Anywhere," he growled, fiercely, "to get out of this damnable
hypocrisy! Pardon me, Aunt Murray, I can't help it, it IS damnable, and
a whole lot of them are in it!"

Then Mrs. Murray came, and laying her hand on his arm, said: "Don't go,
Harry; don't leave me; I want some one; come upstairs."

Harry stood looking at the sweet face, trying to smile so bravely in
spite of the tremulous lips.

"You are a dear, brave little woman," he said, hanging up his hat, "and
I'll be hanged if I don't stay by you. Come along upstairs." He stooped,
and lifting her in his arms in spite of her laughing protests, carried
her upstairs to her room. When they came down to the party they both
looked braver and stronger.

The party was a great success. The appointments were perfect; the music
the best that could be had, and Maimie more beautiful than ever. In
some mysterious way, known only to Aunt Frank, the rumor of Maimie's
approaching engagement got about among the guests and produced an
undertone of excitement to the evenings gayety. Maimie was too excited
to be quite natural, but she had never appeared more brilliant and
happy, and surely she had every cause. She had achieved a dizzy summit
of social success that made her at once the subject of her friends'
congratulations and her rivals' secret envy, and which was the more
delightful it would be hard to say. Truly, she was a fortunate girl,
but still the night was long, and she was tired of it all before it was
over. The room seemed empty, and often her heart gave a leap as her eyes
fell upon some form that a