ing birds. He is fresh now, not
vexed and nervous with the cares of the day; he has been reading an old
poet, too, which has softened him.

An oriole perches on the tree near him and begins an enchanting song.
Both turn, and she leans over the railing, still in range of his eyes.
He remembers like a sudden flash that they were here years ago,
planning, dreaming, hoping, she his promised wife. Does it stir his
soul? Was that merely a young man's fancy for a pretty girl, engendered
by friendly companionship? She glances up so quickly that he flushes
and is half ashamed of speculating upon her.

"It is delightful! Ah, I do not wonder you love this morning hour, when
beauty reigns supreme, before the toil and moil of the world has begun.
It stirs one's heart to worship. And yet we, senseless creatures, dance
through starry midnights in hot rooms, and waste such heavenly hours in
stupid slumber. Do you wonder that I am tired of it all?"

"Papa, papa!" Cecil comes dancing like a sprite of the morning, and
clasping his hand, springs upon his knee, burying her face in his
beard, her soft lips sweet with kisses. Then as if remembering, turns,
says, "Good morning, madame," with a grave inclination of the head, and
nestles down on his lap. Madame could strangle her, but she smiles
sweetly, and speaks with subtle tenderness in which there is a touch of
longing. Floyd wonders again how it is that Cecil is blind to all this
attraction.

Then the conversation drops to commonplaces, and the breakfast-bell
rings. There is so much to do. To-morrow is the wedding morning, and
the guests will begin to come to-day. Floyd will give up one of his
rooms and take Cecil. Eugene is in his glory, and is really much more
master of ceremonies than Floyd can be. There is nothing but flurry and
excitement, but madame keeps cool as an angel. Mrs. Vandervoort and
Mrs. Latimer, the bridegroom's sisters, both elegant society women, do
not in the least shine her down, and are completely captivated by her.

"Of course she must come to Newport, Laura," says Mrs. Vandervoort.
"She is trained to enjoy just such society. And next winter she will be
the social success of the city. I delight in American belles," says
this patriotic woman, who has been at nearly every court in Europe, and
can still appreciate her own countrywomen, "but they do need judicious
foreign training."

The wedding morning dawns auspiciously. The house is sweet with
flowers. Gertrud