at she was not
happy. There was no light of pleasure in her eyes, and her face was
unusually pale. Though she danced well, yet she had the appearance of
one who was moving almost mechanically. This appealed to Douglas more
than if she had shown a great vivacity of spirit. There was something
tragic about her face and manner, which, in fact was almost akin to
despair. What could it be? the player wondered. How he longed to know
the mystery surrounding her young life, and why she was acting a part
for which she evidently had no liking.

When the dance was finished, Nell came to where Douglas was sitting and
took a chair by his side. A slight sigh of relief escaped her lips,
which Douglas was not slow to notice.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"Very," was the low reply. "I have been working hard all day, and this
dance is too much for me."

"You dance well. It was a great pleasure to watch you."

"Was it?" and she looked at him with large, grateful eyes. "No one
could help dancing well with such music. This is something new for
you, is it not?"

"What makes you think so?"

"It is merely a notion of mine. We have never had such playing here
before."

"I suppose you know every one here?" Douglas queried, wishing to change
the subject of conversation.

"Oh, yes. I know them quite well."

"Who, then, is that fine-looking young man just across from me with the
pretty girl by his side?"

"That is Tom Morrison, who, next to Jake Jukes, is the best wrestler in
the parish. The girl is Susie Stephenson. They are to be married in
September, so it is reported."

"They seem to be very happy in each other's company."

"They are now," was all the information Nell vouchsafed in reply, and
then became suddenly silent.

This was the only conversation Douglas had with Nell that evening. She
was too much in demand to remain long off the floor, tired though she
was. Douglas noticed that Ben did not miss a dance, and that whenever
he came near Tom Morrison there was some trouble. Ben seemed to make a
special effort either to crowd him off the floor or to interfere with
his movements. Tom endeavoured to keep out of his way and not to make
any trouble. It was plain that he was very angry, for his face had
lost its bright, sunny expression and was dark and lowering. His habit
of always retreating puzzled Douglas. "Why doesn't he give the
impudent fellow warning to leave him alone?" he asked himself. "I know