onds, felt nothing but the pressure of her form and her
odorous breath upon his cheek, heard nothing but the soft sound of her
breathing. Closer he clasped her; there was no sense of weariness in
his feet or oppression in his lungs; he could have danced for ever.
But all too soon the music ceased with a crash, and they were standing
with quick breath and sparkling eyes by the spot that they had started
from. Close by Miss Terry was sitting yawning.

"Agatha, say good-bye to those people for me. I must get a breath of
fresh air. Give me a glass of water, please, Arthur."

He did so, and, by way of composing his own nerves, took a tumbler of
champagne. He had no longer any thought of anxiety or danger, and he,
too, longed for air. They passed out into the garden, and, by a common
consent, made their way to the museum verandah, which was, as it
proved, quite deserted.

The night, which was drawing to its close, was perfect. Far over the
west the setting moon was sinking into the silver ocean, whilst the
first primrose hue of dawn was creeping up the eastern sky. It was
essentially a dangerous night, especially after dancing and champagne
--a night to make people do and say regrettable things; for, as one of
the poets--is it not Byron?--has profoundly remarked, there is the
very devil in the moon at times.

They stood and gazed awhile at the softness of its setting splendours,
and listened to the sounds of the last departing guests fading into
silence, and to the murmurs of the quiet sea. At last she spoke, very
low and musically.

"I was angry with you. I brought you here to scold you; but on such a
night I cannot find the heart."

"What did you want to scold me about?"

"Never mind; it is all forgotten. Look at that setting moon and the
silver clouds above her," and she dropped her hand, from which she had
slipped the glove, upon his own.

"And now look at me and tell me how I look, and how you liked the
ball. I gave it to please you."

"You look very lovely, dangerously lovely, and the ball was splendid.
Let us go."

"Do you think me lovely, Arthur?"

"Yes; who could help it? But let us go in."

"Stay awhile, Arthur; do not leave me yet. Tell me, is not this
necklace undone? Fasten it for me, Arthur."

He turned to obey, but his hand shook too much to allow him to do so.
Her eyes shone into his own, her fragrant breath played upon his brow,
and her bosom heaved beneath his shaking hand. She too was moved