rs old and would graduate in a few weeks, yet Elsie
looked like a child, lying there in that little white bed, with her
golden curls scattered on the pillow and the soft whiteness of her neck
and hands shaded by the delicate Valenciennes with which her night robe
was profusely decorated. A quantity of hot house flowers lay scattered
on the counterpane, where the girl had flung them, one by one, from a
bouquet she was still tearing to pieces. A frown was on her pretty
forehead, and her large violet eyes shone feverishly. It was seldom
anything half so lovely appeared in the confined sleeping rooms of that
highly fashionable boarding school. Indeed, since its foundation it is
doubtful if a creature half so beautiful as Elsie Mellen had ever slept
within its walls.

Just as the girl had littered the whole bed with flowers, which she
broke and crushed as a child breaks the toys he is weary of, the door of
the room opened, and a young lady entered, with a plate of hot-house
grapes in her hand. She was older than the sick girl by two or three
years, and in all respects a grave and most womanly contrast. Calm,
gracious and dignified, she came forward with an air of protection and
sat down by the bed, holding out her grapes.

"See what your brother has sent you."

The girl started up and flung back the hair from her face.

"From Piney Bend," she exclaimed, lifting one of the purple clusters in
her hand, and crowding two or three of the grapes into her mouth at
once, with the delicious greed of a naughty child. "Oh, how cool and
nice. Dear old Grant, I wonder when he is coming."

"Sometime to-day, the messenger said," answered the young lady, and a
soft peach-like bloom swept over her face as she spoke.

Elsie was looking at her friend; and a quick, mischievous light came
into her own face.

"Bessie," she murmured, in a voice mellowed and muffled by the grapes in
her mouth. "Don't tell me anything--only I think--I think--oh! wouldn't
it be fun?--there, there, how you are blushing."

"Blushing, how foolish! But I am glad to see you well enough even to
talk nonsense."

"Nonsense! look here, Miss Prim: if you're not in love with my brother
Grantley Mellen, I never was in love with anybody in my life."

"Elsie!"

"There, there! I shan't believe a word you say--more than that, I
believe he's in love with you."

No blushes burned that noble face now, for it grew white with a great
surprise, and for a moment Elizabeth Fu