pay the price of a fine dress than try to describe Miss Mayton's
attire; I can only say that in style, color and ornament it became her
perfectly, and set off the beauties of a face which I had never before
thought was more than pleasing and intelligent. Perhaps the anger which
was excusable after Toddie's graceless caper had something to do with
putting unusual color into her cheeks, and a brighter sparkle than
usual in her eyes. Whatever was the cause, she looked queenly, and I
half imagined that I detected in her face a gleam of satisfaction at
the involuntary start which her unexpected appearance caused me to
make. She accepted my apology for Toddie with queenly graciousness, and
then, instead of proposing that we should follow the other ladies, as a
moment before I had hoped she would, she dropped into a chair. I
accepted the invitation; the children should have been in bed half an
hour before, but my sense of responsibility had departed when Miss
Mayton appeared. The little scamps were safe until they should perform
some new and unexpected act of impishness. They retired to one end of
the piazza, and busied themselves in experiments upon a large
Newfoundland dog, while I, the happiest man alive, talked to the
glorious woman before me, and enjoyed the spectacle of her radiant
beauty. The twilight came and deepened, but imagination prevented the
vision from fading. With the coming of the darkness and the starlight,
our voices unconsciously dropped to lower tones, and HER voice seemed
purest music. And yet we said nothing which all the world might not
have listened to without suspecting a secret. The ladies returned in
little groups, but either out of womanly intuition or in answer to my
unspoken but fervent prayers, passed us and went into the house. I was
affected by an odd mixture of desperate courage and despicable
cowardice. I determined to tell her all, yet I shrank from the task
with more terror than ever befell me in the first steps of a charge.

Suddenly a small shadow came from behind us and stood between us, and
the voice of Budge remarked:--

"Uncle Harry 'spects you, Miss Mayton."

"Suspects me?--of what, pray?" exclaimed the lady, patting my nephew's
cheek.

"Budge!" said I--I feel that my voice rose nearly to a scream--"Budge,
I must beg of you to respect the sanctity of confidential
communications."

"What is it, Budge?" persisted Miss Mayton; "you know the old adage,
Mr. Burton: 'Children and