," says Clarissa, looking very sweet herself as she
utters this comforting speech.

"You are an angel, you know," says Cissy, with a merry little laugh.
"You see everybody through rose-colored spectacles."

"Isn't she rude?" says Clarissa. "One would think I was an old fogy of
ninety-five. Spectacles, indeed!"

"I must run," says Miss Cissy. "I entirely forgot all about the
dinner, and mamma left it to me, as she had to go and see old Mrs.
Martin. Good-bye, dear, _dearest_ Clarissa. How I wish I could go with
you to this lovely ball!"

"Never mind; people always meet," says Clarissa, consolingly.

"Yes,--at Philippi," returns the irrepressible, and, with a faint
grimace, she vanishes.

Georgie walks as far as the entrance-gate with Clarissa. When there,
she looks at the iron bars wistfully, and then says, in her pretty
childish way, "Let me go a little way with you, Clarissa, will you?"

Miss Peyton, who is walking, is delighted.

"As far as ever you will. Indeed, I want to speak to you. What--what
is your dress like, Georgie?"

Georgie hesitates. Clarissa, misunderstanding her silence, says,
gently, "Let me give you one, dearest?"

"Oh, no, no," says Miss Broughton, quickly. "I have one,--I have,
indeed; and it is rather pretty."

"But you told me you had never been at a ball."

"Neither have I. The gown I speak of was bought for a musical party.
It was given while I was with Aunt Elizabeth."

"Who gave it?"

"The gown?"

"Oh, no,--the party."

"Lady Lincoln. She has one son, Sir John, and I think it is he gives
the parties. Aunt Elizabeth was so pleased that I was asked that she
insisted on my going, though I cried, and prayed hard to be let stay
at home. It was only"--dropping her voice, with a heavy sigh--"eleven
months after papa had--had left me."

"It was cruel to force you to go against your will: but, when you were
there, did you enjoy yourself?"

"I did," confesses Miss Broughton, with a blush. "I enjoyed myself
more than I can say. I do not think I ever enjoyed myself so much in
all my life. I forgot everything for the time being, and was quite
happy. To me the flowers, the lights, the music, the pretty
dresses,--everything,--were new and fresh, and helped to take me out
of myself. And then, everybody was so kind, and Mr. Kennedy----"

"Who was he?" asks Clarissa, interested at once.

"A tall thin dark man, in the Guards,--the Coldstreams or the
Grenadiers, I quite forget which. He