tages she had gained
over Arthur, for they had, as it were, brought Angela's atmosphere
with them, and, faint though it was, it sufficed to overpower her
influence. He made no move forward, and seemed to have entirely
forgotten the episode on the hills when he had gone so very near
disaster. On the contrary, he appeared to her to grow increasingly
preoccupied as time went on, and to look upon her more and more in the
light of a sister, till at length her patience wore thin.

As for her passion, it grew almost unrestrainable in its confinement.
Now she drifted like a rudderless vessel on a sea which raged
continuously and knew no space of calm. And so little oil was poured
upon the troubled waters, there were so few breaks in the storm-walls
that rose black between her and the desired haven of her rest. Indeed,
she began to doubt if even her poor power of charming him, as at first
she had been able to do, with the sparkle of her wit and the half-
unconscious display of her natural grace, was not on the wane, and if
she was not near to losing her precarious foothold in his esteem and
affection. The thought that he might be tiring of her struck her like
a freezing wind, and for a moment turned her heart to ice.

Poor Mildred! higher than ever above her head bloomed that "blue rose"
she longed to pluck. Would she ever reach it after all her striving,
even to gather one poor leaf, one withered petal? The path which led
to it was very hard to climb, and below the breakers boiled. Would it,
after all, be her fate to fall, down into that gulf of which the
sorrowful waters could bring neither death nor forgetfulness?

And so Christmas came and went.

One day, when they were all sitting in the drawing-room, some eight
weeks after the Bellamys had left, and Mildred was letting her mind
run on such thoughts as these, Arthur, who had been reading a novel,
got up and opened the folding-doors at the end of the room which
separated it from the second drawing-room, and also the further doors
between that room and the dining-room. Then he returned, and, standing
at the top of the big drawing-room, took a bird's-eye view of the
whole suite.

"What _are_ you doing, Arthur?"

"I am reflecting, Mildred, that, with such a suite of apartments at
your command, it is a sin and a shame not to give a ball."

"I will give a ball, if you like, Arthur. Will you dance with me if I
do?"

"How many times?" he said, laughing.

"Well, I will b