n her own history.

Myrtle's wardrobe had very little of ornament, such as the _modistes_ of
the town would have thought essential to render a young girl like her
presentable. There were a few heirlooms of old date, however, which she
had kept as curiosities until now, and which she looked over until she
found some lace and other convertible material, with which she enlivened
her costume a little for the evening. As she clasped the antique
bracelet around her wrist, she felt as if it were an amulet that gave
her the power of charming which had been so long obsolete in her
lineage. At the bottom of her heart she cherished a secret longing to
try her fascinations on the young lawyer. Who could blame her? It was
not an inwardly expressed intention,--it was the mere blind instinctive
movement to subjugate the strongest of the other sex who had come in her
way, which, as already said, is as natural to a woman as it is to a man
to be captivated by the loveliest of those to whom he dares to aspire.

Before William Murray Bradshaw and Myrtle Hazard had reached the
Parsonage, the girl's cheeks were flushed and her dark eyes were
flashing with a new excitement. The young man had not made love to her
directly, but he had interested her in herself by a delicate and tender
flattery of manner, and so set her fancies working that she was taken
with him as never before, and wishing that the Parsonage had been a mile
farther from The Poplars. It was impossible for a young girl like Myrtle
to conceal the pleasure she received from listening to her seductive
admirer, who was trying all his trained skill upon his artless
companion. Murray Bradshaw felt sure that the game was in his hands if
he played it with only common prudence. There was no need of hurrying
this child,--it might startle her to make downright love abruptly; and
now that he had an ally in her own household, and was to have access to
her with a freedom he had never before enjoyed, there was a refined
pleasure in playing his fish,--this gamest of golden-scaled
creatures,--which had risen to his fly, and which he wished to hook, but
not to land, until he was sure it would be worth his while.

They entered the little parlor at the Parsonage looking so beaming, that
Olive and Bathsheba exchanged glances which implied so much that it
would take a full page to tell it with all the potentialities involved.

"How magnificent Myrtle is this evening, Bathsheba!" said Cyprian
Evele