the young ladies descended to the spacious drawing rooms, which were
rapidly filling with the elite of the city.

Mabel's eye took in at a glance all the gentlemen, and she felt chagrined
to find Dr. Lacey absent. "What if he should not come?" thought she. "The
party would be a dreadfully dull affair to me." Some time after, she
missed Florence and two or three other girls, and thinking they were in
the parlor above, she went in search of them. She found them on the
balcony not far from the gentlemen's dressing room, the windows of which
were open. As she approached them, they called out, "Oh, here you are,
Mabel! Florence is just going to tell us about Dr. Lacey's sweetheart."

"Dr. Lacey's sweetheart!" repeated Mabel. "Who is Dr. Lacey's sweetheart,
pray?"

"Do not blush so, Mabel; we do not mean you," said Lida Gibson, a
bright-eyed, witty girl, with a sprinkling of malice in her nature.

"Of course you do not mean me," said Mabel, laughingly. "But come, cousin;
what of her?" And the young girls drew nearer to each other, and waited
anxiously for Florence's story.

Little did they suspect that another individual, with flushed brow,
compressed lip and beating heart was listening to hear tidings of her whom
Florence had designated as his sweetheart. Dr. Lacey had entered the
gentlemen's dressing room unobserved. He heard the sound of merry voices
on the balcony, and was about to step out and surprise the girls when he
caught the sound of his own name coupled with that of Fanny Middleton. His
curiosity was aroused and he became a listener to the following
conversation:

"Come, Florence," said Lida, "do not keep us in suspense any longer. Tell
us whether she is black or white, fat or lean, rich or poor."

"But first," said Mabel, "tell us how you know she is anything to Dr.
Lacey."

"That is what I don't know," said Florence. "I am only speaking of what
has been."

"Well, then," said Mabel, more gayly, "go on,"

"This Fanny Middleton," said Florence, "looks just as you would imagine a
bright angel to look."

How Dr. Lacey blessed her for these words.

"But," continued Florence, "there is a singularly sad expression on her
marble face."

"I never observed it," thought Dr. Lacey.

"What makes her sad?" asked Lida.

"That is a mystery to me," answered Florence. "Report says that she loved
a Mr. Wilmot, who was engaged to her sister."

"Engaged to her sister!" repeated Mabel. "How strange! But won't it m