f Cyril--Kester and I think there
is no one like him--but it does not seem as though anyone were quite
good enough for you.'

'Oh, Mollie, what nonsense! but I am not going to believe you; and what
do you mean by calling me Miss Ross, you silly child? Don't I tell you
we are going to be sisters?'

Mollie, who had been rubbing her cheeks against her friend in a
fondling, kittenish sort of way, started back in a moment.

'But I could not call you anything else,' she returned, becoming crimson
with shyness. 'You will always be Miss Ross to me--my Miss Ross, you
know; I could not think of you as anyone else. It would be such a
liberty to call you by your Christian name.'

'Well, never mind; it will come naturally by and by,' returned Audrey
tranquilly. 'I shall know you are fond of me, whatever you choose to
call me; so you and Kester can do as you like.'

'May I write and tell him?' pleaded Mollie. 'Oh, dear Miss Ross, do let
me!'

But Audrey was not inclined to give permission; she explained to Mollie
that she meant to write herself to Captain Burnett, and that she thought
Cyril would send Kester a note.

'Better leave it to him,' she suggested; 'you can write to him
afterwards;' and as usual Mollie was docile.

They went upstairs after this, Mollie picking up the kitten on the way.
Cyril sprang to the door as he heard their footsteps.

'Have we been long?' Audrey asked, turning to him with a smile.

Cyril hardly knew what he answered. For a moment a sense of giddiness
came over him, as though he were suddenly dazzled. 'Could it be really
true?' he asked himself more than once. Audrey did not seem to guess his
feelings: she was perfectly tranquil and at her ease; she had laid aside
her hat and jacket to please Mrs. Blake, and as she sat there sipping
her tea and talking softly to them all, she looked so fair and girlish
in her lover's sight, that the infatuated young man could not remove his
eyes from her.

And yet Audrey was only in the old dark-red cashmere that was
Geraldine's pet aversion; but her brown hair had golden gleams in it,
and the gray eyes were very bright and soft, and perhaps with that
changing colour Audrey did look pretty; for youth and love are great
beautifiers even of homely features. Audrey was sorry when Cyril
reminded her that it was time to go. She was loath to leave that little
drawing-room, so bright with lamplight and firelight. She went home and
dressed for dinner in her white g