a welcoming smile, such as she had not yet bestowed
upon any who had sought her favor. Then, in swift alternation, she
bent upon Madge a brief, cold glance of scrutiny. So brief was it, and
so complacent was the expression of the belle as she turned away, that
the pallid, sensitive girl was told, as by words, "You are nothing."

That glance was like a sharp, deep wound, and pierced where she
was most vulnerable. It said to her, "You are not capable of being
anything to Graydon Muir. I am not in the least afraid of you."

What was she to him? What did she wish to be? To these questions Madge
had but one answer. Any and every girl, in her belief, would be only
too glad to win him. He had said that Miss Wildmere was lovely; his
eyes had expressed an admiration which he had never bestowed upon her;
he had led the beauty away with a glad content in his face, and the
crowded room was made empty by their absence.

She was no longer conscious of weakness, but, obeying her impulse,
sprang up and followed them to the ballroom. Concealed by a little
group she stood, unwearied, and watched them as they glided hither and
thither with a grace that attracted many eyes. The music appeared to
control and animate them, and their motion was harmony itself. Graydon
evidently thought only of his fair partner; but her swift glances were
everywhere, gathering the rich revenue of admiration which was freely
offered. For a second she encountered Madge's large black eyes, full
of trouble, and a satirical smile proved that she enjoyed the poor
girl's solicitude. To deepen it she looked up at Graydon and said
something that caused his face to flush with pleasure. His response
was more decisive, for the swift color came into her face, and her
eyes drooped. The by-play was momentary, and would not have been
seen by a less vigilant observer than Madge; but to her it gave the
undoubted impression that they were lovers. When Miss Wildmere looked
again to see the result of her unkindly strategy, Madge was gone.

In reaction she had grown almost faint, and reached her former retreat
with difficulty. But all her latent womanhood speedily rallied to
meet this strange and but half-comprehended emergency. The impulse now
uppermost was to retain her self-control and reach the seclusion of
her own room. How she was to endure the long hours she scarcely knew.
She did not dare to think. Indeed, the effort was scarcely possible,
for her mind was at first in t