ture, and the exquisite beauty of the white throat. Her quiet,
rather pensive face was just now unusually animated, and the faint
sea-shell tint of her cheek was deepened into a glowing crimson.

"This homely scene is a contrast to that Assembly ball, isn't it?"
Dudley said presently; "and how different my position now from that of
the forlorn youth who that night stood afar off, gazing with useless
longing at the brilliant scene within the ballroom! Little did I then
dream that to-night in far-off Kentucky I should be leading the reel
with the peerless belle of that assembly."

"There stands the 'peerless belle' of this assembly," returned Miss
Patterson, looking across to Betsy Gilcrest, the center of a group of
boys and girls. "Dear little girl!" continued Abby; "she appears in her
airiest, sauciest mood to-night, and is clearly bent on enjoying life
to its fullest extent. No one holds her head so prettily as Betty; no
one laughs and chatters with such innocent gayety. Is she not
bewitching?"

A momentary look of vexation flitted across the young man's face. "What
is Betsy's witchery to me, and why does Abby always try to divert my
attention when I would give our conversation a personal meaning?" he
thought gloomily. "Of course," he admitted, glancing at Betsy with
reluctant admiration, "she is bright and winning, and extremely
attractive, at least to the youths of this community; but she is not
the rose, and I----"

"Ah! It is easy to see what is the attraction here for that bepowdered,
beruffled, fashionable swain, as well as for the Cane Ridge youths,"
Miss Patterson interrupted, as James Anson Drane presented himself
before Betsy, and bowed over her hand with a courtly grace befitting a
far more brilliant scene than this country dance in the old loom-room.

"Do you think she favors him?" asked Dudley, anxiously, a momentary
fierce pang of dislike or distrust or envy shivering through him as he
looked at the debonair young lawyer.

"At any rate," laughed Abby, "there can be no doubt of his intentions.
As for her," she continued, looking earnestly at Abner, "I have in mind
a far more suitable lover, who will, I hope, some day win that heart of
gold."

"Who is this fortunate one destined to 'win that heart of gold'?"
Dudley carelessly inquired, feeling but little interest just then in
any topic save that which concerned himself and the girl at his side.
"Do I know him?"

"Only slightly, I believe," Miss Pa