them?"

Mrs. Dexter turned her eyes in the direction indicated by her
husband, and replied in an indifferent manner:

"Oh, yes."

"Mrs. Florence is looking at you now. Won't you go over and see
her?"

"After a while," replied Mrs. Dexter. Then turning to Mr.
Hendrickson, she said:

"These summer resorts are the dullest places imaginable without
congenial friends."

"So I should think. But you can scarcely know the absence of these.
I heard of you at Saratoga, as forming the centre of one of the most
agreeable and intelligent circles there."

"Ah!" Mrs. Dexter was betrayed into something like surprise.

"Yes. I saw Miss Arden in New York, as I came through. She had been
to Saratoga."

"Miss Arden? I don't remember her," said Mrs. Dexter.

"She resides in B--."

"Miss Arden? Miss Arden?" Mrs. Dexter seemed curious. "What is her
appearance?"

"Tall, with a very graceful figure. Complexion dark enough to make
her pass for a brunette. Large black eyes and raven hair."

"In company with her mother?" said Mrs. Dexter.

"Yes."

"I remember her now. She was quite the belle at Saratoga. But I was
not so fortunate as to make her acquaintance. She sings wonderfully.
Few professional artists are so gifted."

"You have used the right word," said Mr. Hendrickson. "Her musical
powers are wonderful. I wish you knew her, she is a charming girl."

"You must help me to that knowledge on our return to B--."

"Nothing would give me more pleasure. I am sure you will like each
other," said Hendrickson, warmly.

From that point in the conversation Mrs. Dexter began to lose her
self-possession, and free, outspoken manner. The subject was
changed, but the airiness of tone and lightness of speech was gone.
Just in time, Mrs. Florence came across the room, joined the circle,
and saving her from a betrayal of feelings that she would not, on
any account, have manifested.

Mrs. Florence was a woman of taste. She had been in New York a few
days previously, whither she had gone to hear a celebrated European
singer, whose fame had preceded her. Her allusion to this fact led
to an introduction of the subject of music. Hendickson made some
remarks that arrested her attention, when quite an animated
conversation sprung up between them. Mrs. Dexter did not join in it;
but sat a closely observant listener. The young man's criticisms on
the art of music surprised her. They were so new, so analytical, and
so comprehensive. He had ev