s read hundreds of volumes on winter evenings in the country.'"

"You are a veritable sorceress," cried Rowland; "you frighten me away!"
As he was turning to leave her, there rose above the hum of voices in
the drawing-room the sharp, grotesque note of a barking dog. Their eyes
met in a glance of intelligence.

"There is the sorceress!" said Madame Grandoni. "The sorceress and her
necromantic poodle!" And she hastened back to the post of hospitality.

Rowland followed her, and found Christina Light standing in the middle
of the drawing-room, and looking about in perplexity. Her poodle,
sitting on his haunches and gazing at the company, had apparently been
expressing a sympathetic displeasure at the absence of a welcome. But
in a moment Madame Grandoni had come to the young girl's relief, and
Christina had tenderly kissed her.

"I had no idea," said Christina, surveying the assembly, "that you had
such a lot of grand people, or I would not have come in. The servant
said nothing; he took me for an invitee. I came to spend a neighborly
half-hour; you know I have n't many left! It was too dismally dreary at
home. I hoped I should find you alone, and I brought Stenterello to play
with the cat. I don't know that if I had known about all this I would
have dared to come in; but since I 've stumbled into the midst of it, I
beg you 'll let me stay. I am not dressed, but am I very hideous? I will
sit in a corner and no one will notice me. My dear, sweet lady, do let
me stay. Pray, why did n't you ask me? I never have been to a little
party like this. They must be very charming. No dancing--tea and
conversation? No tea, thank you; but if you could spare a biscuit for
Stenterello; a sweet biscuit, please. Really, why did n't you ask me?
Do you have these things often? Madame Grandoni, it 's very unkind!" And
the young girl, who had delivered herself of the foregoing succession of
sentences in her usual low, cool, penetrating voice, uttered these last
words with a certain tremor of feeling. "I see," she went on, "I do very
well for balls and great banquets, but when people wish to have a
cosy, friendly, comfortable evening, they leave me out, with the big
flower-pots and the gilt candlesticks."

"I 'm sure you 're welcome to stay, my dear," said Madame Grandoni, "and
at the risk of displeasing you I must confess that if I did n't invite
you, it was because you 're too grand. Your dress will do very well,
with its fifty flounces,