Signorina," and he pressed his lips for a moment to my hand, Signorina, your friendship-ah, it would be sweet, too sweet for me to dare dream of. But no. It is better that I do not see you again. Try to forget me!"

He was gone. He did not care for me. What must he think of me? How courteously he had repelled me.

Ah, Heaven, how much of my heart had he read in those brief, passionate moments which had passed so bitterly, and left me pale, weak and trembling.

The days slipped by. Papa gradually recovered from his disappointment and chagrin at the non-appearance of my rescuer, and relieved himself by calling him a Don Quixote. As for me, I knew he would not come. If I were dying, I don't believe it would trouble him any, I thought drearily. It was very kind of him not to laugh at me. I hated my self. I tried to hate him. I could not bear the sight of Jet.

Alfred Ferguson came to call one evening. In a matter-of-course way he informed me that in a fortnight he was to start for Leipzig for the advantage of studying in the Conservatory.

"Who will take your place at St. James's?" I asked.

"They have had a great deal of trouble making their selection, and have as yet made no definite one. The congregation at St. James's is very critical."

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"Alfred "" (we were old school-mates), Alfred, will you let me offer a candidate?" | "Wha- what?"

"I will give you the address of a gentleman who I am sure will give perfect satisfaction. He is one of the most finished musicians I have ever heard. And, Alfred, he really needs the salary. I would not for worlds have him know that I had suggested his name to you, but you 'll just manage it so you can hear him play, won't you? And use your influence for him, will you?"

The following Tuesday I received a note from the retiring organist. It was briefly:

"Carissima mia!"

"Ah, you have come, at last!"

"To tell you that I am no longer penniless. To ask you for the life I saved!" And then curiously enough I found my heart and lost my tongue.

"Will you share my home, will you leave this luxury, this magnificence for me?"

Although I said nothing, he seemed satisfied with my answer, for he did not ask me again.

The note fell from my fingers. As he picked it up he happened to see a word or two, then he read it all before I could prevent.

"You are not angry with me?" I faltered against his coat.

"Santissima Madre! Did you care then so much for me? See, then! And he showed me a withered rose which I at once recognized.

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Papa came stumbling in, in the dark. Papa," I said, "here is some one you have often wanted to see. It is the gentleman who ". "Oh, he 's come at last, has he? Take him to the library."

"No, papa, he wants to ask you first for his reward. Papa, hehe he wants

me!

Ah, that evening seems a long, long time ago. Looking up from the ebony table, where I write, to the piano, I see on the music-rack, Golden-rod, a Revery. Composed by George Lynton. You should hear my husband play it!

The story of my husband's life sounds so much like fiction that I will not run the risk of your incredulous shrugs and smiles by repeating it.

It is a quarter of five. I hear sounds which make me drop my pen and go to the window.

Jet and Snow are coming up the carriageroad. I can see papa; he is smiling, and my husband must be held responsible for this abrupt termination.

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So said Lady Macgregor as she laid down the two great square cards on which were invitations to herself, her sister-in-law, and her two nieces for the Dragoons' ball.

"I hardly think Effie ought to go," replied Mrs. Macgregor, Effie's mother, doubtfully.

"Not go, mamma!" exclaimed Effie, from a distant window in the drawing-room. Why, nothing would induce me to miss it!"

"Oh, surely she may!" put in Hester. "Let her enjoy herself while she can." "Of course," assented Effie.

"Of course." echoed Lady Macgregor. And from that time Mrs. Macgregor made no further objections, and Effie reveled in the prospect of her first military ball.

It was to be a "ball of balls," surpassing anything that had ever before been given in Edinburgh, -so rumor said.

The officers were all rich, all comparatively young, all dancing-men, and there were no married ones to throw cold water upon the extravagances which were to be perpetrated with regard to the entertainment.

It created a sensation, long before it took place, amongst the dressmakers; for even shallow purses had to open widely to do honor to it. No shabby dresses must venture to show themselves on the eventful evening; and many were the anxious consultations as to what would be the prettiest and most effective costume to invent for the occasion.

The ball was to be held in the Assembly Rooms and Music Hall, two adjoining and beautiful saloons connected by a corridor, -the last a spot generally well patronized between the dances at such gatherings.

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The Dragoons meant to do justice as entertainers. What the fair guests-to-be now had to consider was their own appearance, each one resolving to do their utmost to dazzle the hosts, and captivate them if she could.

In the privacy of many dressing-rooms this question was frequently asked:

"What will Effie Macgregor wear?" But no one could solve the mystery, simply because Miss Macgregor's attire was not being manufactured by any fashionable modiste, but by the clever fingers of Mrs. Macgregor and her elder daughter, Hester, who never considered their time had been

wasted when spent upon service for Effie, the younger daughter, just then a little over nineteen, and so fair to see that by common consent she was the acknowledged belle of the season.

Mrs. Macgregor was the widow of a baronet's third son, of unexceptional pedigree, but poor, and proud as well. She had hitherto lived a most retired life in the Highlands, eking out her narrow income with praiseworthy skill, and, when Hester grew up, even contriving, with her assistance, to save a trifle in anticipation of the time when her beautiful Effie should "come out," when she knew some extra expense must be provided for.

Hester was three-and-twenty, - a brightfaced, pleasant, sensible girl, with no pretensions to prettiness, but ladylike and refined. For her no effort had ever been thought necessary; and she was so thoroughly unselfish that she never gave a thought to what others might have considered the preference shown to her sister. Ever since Effie had been a baby, Hester had been like a little mother to her; and, as her charms expanded, the elder sister's pride in them had partaken of the same character. To be jealous of Effie never entered her imagination.

When Lady Macgregor, their uncle's wife, wrote to Mrs. Macgregor, and advised her to bring her daughters to Edinburgh, Mrs. Macgregor and Hester agreed that the time had come to trench upon their small savings. For Effie must be well dressed, she must have every advantage, a decision which pretty, willful Effie, with her sapphire eyes, delicate, tip-tilted nose, and sweet, smiling lips, was indisposed to dispute.

Lady Macgregor invited her relatives to her handsome house in Moray Place, and shortly after their arrival their gayeties began; and almost immediately the heads of at least a. dozen of the marriageable youths of Edinbungh were completely turned by the rare beauty of Miss Effie Mac

Effie herself was slightly spoiled by it all. She enjoyed her triumphs intensely. She rejoiced over the bouquets that were sent to her, and the homage that was paid to her. After the quiet home-life at Inverardoch Glen, the whirl of the Edinburgh season was enchanting to the simple, country-bred girl..

Some weeks previous to the Dragoons' ball an admirer had attached himself to the train of Miss Effie Macgregor, in the shape of Mr. George Duff, a good-looking young Scotchman with some property of his own, and about two thousand a year. He paid Effie marked attention, which she received with a demure satisfaction; and her less important admirers shrank back with one accord from any attempt to compete with this eligible candidate for the pretty Miss Macgregor's favor.

Lady Macgregor found out that she knew Mr. Duff's aunts, in fact every particular concerning the young man was soon satisfactorily discovered. He was good-looking, well-born, comfortably off, his character was unimpeachable, and, to crown all, as the days went by he seemed to be growing more and more in love with Effie, who certainly began to ahow symptoms of considerable partiality for him in return.

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The young ladies of Edinburgh in private conclave rather resented the fact of Miss Effie Macgregor's conquest. She was stranger who had swooped down into their midst, and, after outshining them all, picked out the most desirable parti of the season. However, everything was not settled yet, one or two of the more elderly young ladies remarked with an ominous shake of the head; the Dragoons' ball had still to take place.

Whether any forebodings as to that event oppressed the ardent Mr. Duff no one knew; but he had evidently made up his mind to secure Effie's promise beforehand.

Accordingly one afternoon he called at Lady Macgregor's, when, by a happy chance, her ladyship and Mrs. Macgregor and Hester were out driving.

Effie, looking outwardly sweet, received him; and, plucking up courage, he then and there proposed to her, and was accepted. Effie believed that she was very happy; she was quite certain of it when she told her delighted relatives of her engagement, with which even Hester, who had been hardest of all to please, was charmed, for Mr. Duff had won all their hearts by his frank kindness, and honest admiration of Effie.

The wedding was to take place in June, — it was March then, and Effie was to set about choosing her trousseau as speedily as possible. There were to be no tiresome delays, no weary, indefinite proceedings. Mr.

Duff would fain have had the ceremony celebrated in May, but Effie had all the Scotch superstition regarding the unluckiness of the month so far as marriage was concerned. June, she declared, would be soon enough.

Mr. Duff had one characteristic which his fiancée had still to discover, he was of a jealous disposition. Now that Effie was his promised wife, he did not care for the idea of her going to balls in the way that she had hitherto done. If she must go, he decided that she ought to dance almost exclusively with himself. And to a certain extent he conveyed his ideas to Effie, who listened patiently enough, but did not appear quite to see her way to make any promises on the subject.

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"I can't refuse everybody," she said. "It would seem so stupid; and I am very fond of dancing."

"Then dance with me, Effie," urged Mr. Duff. "Am I not enough for you now?"

"Of course," she agreed, in an unconvinced, hesitating tone, that was not lost upon the sharp ears of her intended.

Mr. Duff carried his point, as far as waltzing went, at the first two or three dances they went to directly after their engage ment; and Effie, though slightly restive at having to refuse a number of suppliants, behaved altogether very well, especially as Mr. Duff did not excel in the Terpsichorean art, — in fact, danced very badly.

But Effie was not going to dance through life with him; a better fate was in store for her, it was to be hoped. He would make her a tender, true, loving husband. What did it matter that he could only stumble through fast dances?

Nevertheless, his shortcomings in that line were a source of considerable annoyance to his pretty betrothed, who floated to perfection round the room when she had a fairly good partner; and she had an inward conviction that, when she and Mr. Duff attempted to waltz, every one was watching their erratic career and laughing at them.

This idea rather damped the prospect of the Dragoons' ball to Effie. But her spirits rose when, on the morning of the eventful day, Mr. Duff presented her with an exquisite crystal heart-shaped locket, set round with diamonds of great beauty, and surmounted by a lover's knot, also in diamonds. This ornament, worn on a broad black vel vet, with a splendid bouquet, and a simple white tulle dress, trimmed with bunches of snowdrops, completed Miss Effie Macgregor's costume for the military ball.

Never had she looked prettier than when, closely guarded by Mr. Duff, she entered the brilliantly lighted Assembly Rooms; and never had she dreamed of such a fairylike scene as the rooms themselves present

Mr. Duff escorted her round the rooms, and then they joined the dancers, taking one turn. After that Effie was besieged with requests for dances, many of which she declined reluctantly enough. But presently Lady Macgregor came up to her, and introduced one of their hosts, Captain Verschoyle. "He wished it so very much," her aunt whispered.

And Effie, with a charming shy glance upward, met a pair of handsome, bold, dark eyes fixed admiringly upon her.

May I have a dance?" he asked.

Effie hesitated for an instant. George Duff's heart stood still.

"Number five," said Effie. "That is the Lancers."

"Thank you," answered Captain Verschoyle, rapidly inscribing his initials on her programme, and then departing.

For a few seconds there was an ominous silence between Mr. Duff and his fiancée; and then Effie said timidly,

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"I hope yon don't mind, George; I gave him only a square dance. It really seems so foolish to refuse everybody."

"When we are married, Effie,” he rejoined gloomily, "I sha' n't allow you to dance at all."

"Poor me," said Effie' to herself.

But she remembered the crystal heart, and refrained from expressing disapprobation openly.

Presently George desired another turn; and Effie found herself struggling along in trying circumstances, which were not improved by the sudden consciousness that she was being keenly watched by the dark eyes of Captain Verschoyle.

Effie read both amusement and pity in them; and almost sharply she told Mr. Duff that she thought they had better sit down, anything was better than being so terribly knocked about. Mr. Duff felt considerably hurt at this; and Effie experienced a sensation of relief when Captain Verschoyle again appeared, and claimed her for number five, which he said was just about to begin.

Mr. Duff resigned her, but resolved to keep his treasure in sight, in fact, a bright idea seized him to dance in the Lancers himself, if possible vis à vis to Effie.

Accordingly he hurried off to secure Hester as a partner, and in so doing lost sight of the blue-and-gold uniform, and the white dress; he would soon find them again, however, he said to himself. Hester accepted

Perhaps she is in the Music Hall," suggested Hester. "They are dancing there, too."

As Hester and Mr. Duff entered it, the Dragoons' band was discoursing Sweethearts, and, to the horror and wrath of the young man, he beheld his beautiful Effie whirling round clasped in the arms of Captain Verschoyle.

She was very young, he must have patience, Mr. Duff told himself as he glared at them, and then by a mighty effort resolved to endure what pained him so exceedingly, and not be hard upon her.

Captain Verschoyle danced to perfection, and Effie felt that she was the observed of all observers as she floated along, guided by the irresistible Captain Verschoyle. What a change after George's plunging.

Captain Verschoyle was enchanted with her dancing, so he said. She could not refuse him at least two more dances before the evening was over. He was so earnest, so determined to have them, that Effie, after declining at first, proceeded to deliberate; and, having done that, the initialing took place once more upon her programme; and the handsome Dragoon expressed himself duly grateful.

"I hope you are not going to dance again with the partner I have just seen you with, Miss Macgregor? he said. "I declare it made me quite angry to watch how he dragged you about. Who is he?"

Í suppose you mean Mr. Duff!" said Effie, coloring as she spoke.

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·Duff? Ah, ought to be Duffer!" declared Captain Verschoyle. Why, there he is, looking as black as thunder!"

And Captain Verschoyle smiled an intensely aggravating smile at George, who certainly was regarding the pair with anything but satisfied eyes; and, as he stroked his mustache complacently, something of the true state of affairs dawned upon Effie's partner.

Perhaps that gave a sort of zest to the pursuit of Effie which followed, just for the amusement of cutting out another man, and for the pleasure of securing for a time the affections of what he considered the prettiest girl in the place.

Before the Dragoons' ball was over, more than one matronly head had shaken itself gravely at the attentions paid to Mr. Duff's fiancée; and Mr. Duff himself determined that Effie should not, with his consent, have another opportunity of making herself conspicuous with Captain Verschoyle.

But, alas, poor, foolish Effie was flattered! Captain Verschoyle was the "swell "