to assure herself
of his constancy.

Now, as she sits restlessly awaiting what time may bring her, she
thinks, with a smile, that, sad as her life may be and is, she is
surely blessed as few are in a possession of which none can rob her,
the tender, faithful affection of one heart.

She is still smiling, and breathing a little glad sigh over this
thought, when the door opens and Lady Stafford comes in. She is
radiant, a very sunbeam, in spite of the fact that Sir Penthony is
again an absentee from his native land, having bidden adieu to English
shores three months ago in a fit of pique, brought on by Cecil's
perversity.

Some small dissension, some trivial disagreement, anger on his part,
seeming indifference on hers, and the deed was done. He left her
indignant, enraged, but probably more in love with her than ever; while
she---- But who shall fathom a woman's heart?

"You saw him last night?" asks Molly, rising, with a brilliant blush,
to receive her visitor. "Cecil, did you know he was coming? You might
have told me." For her there is but one "he."

"So I should, my dear, directly; but the fact is, I _didn't_ know.
The stupid boy never wrote me a line on the subject. It appears he got
a fortnight's leave, and came posthaste to London to find you. Such a
lover as he makes. And where should he go by the merest chance, the
very first evening, but into your actual presence? It is a romance,"
says her ladyship, much delighted; "positively it is a shame to let it
sink into oblivion. Some one should recommend it to the Laureate as a
theme for his next production."

"Well?" says Molly, who at this moment is guilty of irreverence in her
thoughts toward the great poet.

"Well, now, of course he wants to know when he may see you."

"You didn't give him my address?" With an amount of disappointment in
her tone impossible to suppress.

"I always notice," says Cecil, in despair, "that whenever (which is
seldom) I do the right thing it turns out afterward to be the wrong
thing. You swore me in to keep your secret four months ago, and I have
done so religiously. To-day, sorely against my will, I honestly
confess, I still remained faithful to my promise, and see the result.
You could almost beat me,--don't deny it, Molly; I see it in your eyes.
If we were both South Sea Islanders I should be black and blue this
instant. It is the fear of scandal alone restrains you."

"You were quite right." Warmly. "I admire you for it