d all admire the wisdom
of his choice. So the heir of Earlescourt dreamed as he watched the
brilliant crowd that began to fill the ball room; but his reverie was
suddenly broken by a summons from Lady Earle.

"Ronald," said she, looking slightly impatient, "have you forgotten
that it is your place to open the ball? You must ask Miss Charteris to
dance with you."

"That will be no hardship," he replied, smiling at his mother's earnest
manner. "I would rather dance with Miss Charteris than any one else."

Lady Earle wisely kept silence; her son went up to Valentine and made
his request. He danced with her again and again--not as Lady Earle
hoped, from any unusual preference, but because it gave him less
trouble than selecting partners among strange young ladies. Valentine
understood him; they talked easily, and without restraint. He paid her
no compliments, and she did not seem to expect any. With other ladies,
Ronald was always thinking, "What would they say if they knew of that
fair young wife at Eastham?" With Valentine no such idea haunted
him--he had an instinctive belief in her true and firm friendship.

Lady Earle overheard a few whispered comments, and they filled her
heart with delight. Old friends whispered to her that "it would be a
splendid match for her son," and "how happy she would be with such a
daughter-in-law as Miss Charteris, so beautiful and dignified;" and all
this because Ronald wanted to secure Valentine's friendship, so that
she might intercede for Dora.

When, for the fourth time, Ronald asked Miss Charteris "for the next
dance," she looked up at him with a smile.

"Do you know how often we have danced together this evening?" she asked.

"What does it matter?" he replied, wondering at the flush that
crimsoned her face. "Forgive me, Miss Charteris, if I say that you
realize my idea of the poetry of motion."

"Is that why you ask me so frequently?" she said, archly.

"Yes," replied honest Ronald; "it is a great pleasure; for one good
dancer there are fifty bad ones."

He did not quite understand the pretty, piqued expression of her face.

"You have not told me," said Valentine, "whether you like my flowers."

"They are very beautiful," he replied; but the compliment of her
selection was all lost upon him.

Miss Charteris did not know whether he was simply indifferent or timid.

"You told me these lilies were your favorite flowers," she said.

"Yes," replied Ronald; "but t