young girls in the world--as you look
to-night, the loveliest?" He smiled at her reflection in the mirror as
he spoke, and then turned toward the reality. "You show nothing," he
said, kindly; "and my eyes are very observant."

They went toward the door; as they reached it, he bent over her. "If
this engagement should by any chance be broken, then could you not love
me a little, Anne--only a little?" he murmured, looking into her eyes
questioningly.

"I wish I could," she answered, gravely. "You are a generous man. I
would like to love you."

"But you could not?"

"I can not."

He pressed her hand in silence, opened the door, and led the way down to
the hall-room. They had been absent one hour.

Blum, who was standing disconsolately near the entrance, watching Helen,
came up and asked Anne to dance. Reluctant to go to her grandaunt before
it was necessary, she consented. She glanced nervously up and down the
long room as they took their places, but Heathcote was not present. Her
gaze then rested upon another figure moving through the dance at some
distance down the hall. Mrs. Lorrington in her costume that evening
challenged criticism. She did this occasionally--it was one of her
amusements. Her dress was of almost the same shade of color as her hair,
the hue unbroken from head to foot, the few ornaments being little stars
of topaz. Her shoulders and arms were uncovered; and here also she
challenged criticism, since she was so slight that in profile view she
looked like a swaying reed. But as there was not an angle visible
anywhere, her fair slenderness seemed a new kind of beauty, which all,
in spite of sculptor's rules, must now admire. Rachel called her,
smilingly, "the amber witch." But Isabel said, "No; witch-hazel; because
it is so beautiful, and yellow, and sweet." Rachel, Isabel, and Helen
always said charming things about each other in public: they had done
this unflinchingly for years.

Miss Vanhorn was watching her niece from her comfortable seat on the
other side of the room, and watching with some impatience. But the
Haunted Man was now asking Anne to dance, and Anne was accepting. After
that dance she went out on the piazza for a few moments; when she
returned, Heathcote was in the room, and waltzing with Helen.

All her courage left her before she could grasp it, and hardly knowing
what she was doing, she went directly across the floor to Miss Vanhorn,
and asked if she might go to her room.

Mi