, eyeing the girl who stood now leaning
against a tree in the distance.

'And the post of the seventh looks so inviting!' said Mr.
Kingsland, rising and strolling off.

'Isn't it too much!' said Kitty Fisher. 'See here, girls and
boys, listen,'--and heads and voices too went down below
recognition.

A little later in the evening, Gotham from his seclusion in
the servants' quarters was summoned to speak to a lady. He
found awaiting him, not his mistress, but a wonderful pyramid
of white tarletan from which issued a voice.

'Miss Hazel is going to spend the night with Mrs. Seaton, and
she sends you word that you may go home and come back for her
at eight o'clock in the morning.'

'Ain't that clever?' said Phinny to the cavalier on whose arm
she leaned, as they retraced their way towards the lighted
portion of the grounds. 'Now I have disposed of one trouble.'

All unconscious of this machination Wych Hazel kept on her
walk--the only thing she could decide to do to-night. In fact
the girl hardly knew her own mood. Of course the strictures
that had been made were all unfounded, as touching her; but
the words had given such pain at the time, that the very idea
of dancing made her wince as if she heard them again. That
would wear off, of course, but for the present she would walk;
and had, as Molly guessed, put on her long train as a token.
But when the concert began to tend towards the German, another
fancy seized her: to stay and look on, and get that outside
view which was almost unknown. And so when the first set was
forming she released Major Seaton for his partner, and again
took Mr. May's arm and walked towards the dancers.

'My dear,' said Mme. Lasalle, coming up on the other side,
'are you not dancing?'

'As you see, Madame!' said Hazel, with a slight bend and
laugh.

'_You_ not dancing! What's the matter?'

'Well--you will find it is a freak, or I tired myself last
night, or I want to make a sensation--according to whom you
ask,' said Wych Hazel.

'You are not forbidden?' whispered the lady, in a lower tone.

'No, Madame.'

'You seem to have so many guardians,' the lady went on,--'and
guardians are selfish, my dear; horribly selfish. For that, I
think all men are, whether guardians or not.'

'Just now,' said Wych Hazel, 'I am the selfish one,--keeping
Mr. May from dancing.' Which supposed view of the case Mr.
May, like a wise man, did not try to answer--just then.

The German began. One or tw