ertainly. Miss Morgeson, will you be my partner?"

"Will you play with me then, Miss Helen?" asked Charles.

"If you desire it," she answered, rather ungraciously.

We took our seats in the East Room, which opened from the parlor, at a
little table by the chimney. The astral lamp from the center table in
the parlor shone into our room, intercepting any view toward us. I sat
by the window, the curtain of which was drawn apart, and the shutters
unclosed. A few yellow leaves stuck against the panes, unstirred by
the melancholy wind, which sighed through the crevices. Charles was at
my right hand, by the mantel; the light from a candelabra illuminated
him and Mr. Somers, while Helen and I were in shadow. Mr. Somers dealt
the cards, and we began the game.

"We shall beat you," he said to Charles.

"Not unless Cassandra has improved," he replied.

I promised to do my best, but soon grew weary, and we were beaten. To
my surprise Mr. Somers was vexed. His imperturbable manner vanished;
he sat erect, his eyes sparkled, and he told me I must play better. We
began another game, which he was confident of winning. I kept my eyes
on the cards, and there was silence till Mr. Somers exclaimed, "Don't
trump now, Mr. Morgeson."

I watched the table for his card to fall, but as it did not, looked
at him for the reason. He had forgotten us, and was lost in
contemplation, with his eyes fixed upon me. The recognition of
some impulse had mastered him. I must prevent Helen and Mr. Somers
perceiving this! I shuffled the cards noisily, rustled my dress,
looked right and left for my handkerchief to break the spell.

"How the wind moans!" said Helen. I understood her tone; she
understood him, as I did.

"I _like_ Rosville, Miss Perkins," cried Mr. Somers.

"Do you?" said Charles, clicking down his card, as though his turn had
just come. "I must trump this in spite of you."

"I am tired of playing," I said.

"We are beaten, Miss Perkins," said Mr. Somers, rising. "Bring it
here," to a servant going by with a tray and glasses. He drank
a goblet of wine, before he offered us any. "Now give us music!"
offering his arm to Helen, and taking her away. Charles and I remained
at the table. "By the way," he said abruptly, "I have forgotten to
give you a letter from your father--here it is." I stretched my hand
across the table, he retained it. I rose from my chair and stood
beside him.

"Cassandra," he said at last, growing ashy pale, "is th