company her, will be in New York, whither we will go
immediately. A few moments more and you will be my wife, and beyond
the control of your grandmother. Do you approve my plan, Maggie,
darling? Will you go?"

Maggie could not answer him then, for an elopement was something
from which she instinctively shrunk, and with a faint hope that her
grandmother might consent she went back to her sister's room, where
she had not yet been missed. Very rapidly the remainder of the
afternoon passed away, and at an early hour, wishing to know "exactly
how she was going to look," Maggie commenced her toilet. Theo, too,
desirous of displaying her white satin as long as possible, began to
dress; while Madam Conway, in no haste to don her purple satin, which
was uncomfortably tight, amused herself by watching the passers-by,
nodding at intervals, in her chair.

While thus occupied, a perfumed note was brought to her, the contents
of which elicited from her an exclamation of surprise.

"Can it be possible!" she said; and thrusting the note into her pocket
she hastily left the room.

She was gone a long, long time; and when at last she returned, she was
evidently much excited, paying no attention whatever to Theo, who, in
her bridal robes, looked charming, but minutely inspecting Maggie, to
see if in her adornings there was aught out of its place. Her dress
was faultless, and she looked so radiantly beautiful, as she stood
before her grandmother, that the old lady kissed her fondly,
whispering, as she did so, "You are indeed beautiful!" It was a long
time ere Madam Conway commenced her own toilet, and then she proceeded
so slowly that George Douglas became impatient, and she finally
suggested that he and Theo should go without her, sending the carriage
back for herself and Maggie. To this proposition he at last yielded;
and when they were left alone Madam Conway greatly accelerated her
movements, dressing herself in a few moments, and then, much to
Maggie's surprise, going below without a word of explanation. A few
moments only elapsed ere a servant was sent to Maggie, saying that her
presence was desired at No. 40, a small private parlor adjoining the
public drawing rooms.

"What can it mean? Is it possible that Henry is there?" Maggie asked
herself, as with a beating heart she descended the stairs.

A moment more, and Maggie stood on the threshhold of No. 40. Seated
upon the sofa was Madam Conway, her purple satin seeming to have