ling in a vacant lot next to Norman Lloyd's residence, which
was the wonder of the city. She reared this castle in Spain with
inconceivable swiftness, even while she was turning her head towards
Eva on the other side, and prodding her with an admonishing elbow as
Mrs. Zelotes had prodded Andrew. "That's Norman Lloyd's nephew
dancing with her now," she said. Eva looked at her, smiling.
Directly the idea of Ellen's marriage with the young man with whom
she was dancing established full connections and ran through the
line of Ellen's relatives as though an electric wire.

As for Ellen, dancing with this stranger, who had been introduced to
her by the school-master, she certainly had no thought of a possible
marriage with him, but she had looked into his face with a curious,
ready leap of sympathy and understanding of this other soul which
she met for the first time. It seemed to her that she must have
known him before, but she knew that she had not. She began to
reflect as they were whirling about the hall, she gazed at that
secret memory of hers, which she had treasured since her childhood,
and discovered that what had seemed familiar to her about the young
man was the face of a familiar thought. Ever since Miss Cynthia
Lennox had told her about her nephew, the little boy who had owned
and loved the doll, Ellen had unconsciously held the thought of him
in her mind. "You are Miss Cynthia Lennox's nephew," she said to
young Lloyd.

"Yes," he replied. He nodded towards Cynthia, who was sitting on the
opposite side from the Brewsters, with the Norman Lloyds and Lyman
Risley. "She used to be like a mother to me," he said. "You know I
lost my mother when I was a baby."

Ellen nodded at him with a look of pity of that marvellous scope
which only a woman in whom the maternal slumbers ready to awake can
compass. Ellen, looking at the handsome face of the young man, saw
quite distinctly in it the face of the little motherless child, and
all the tender pity which she would have felt for that child was in
her eyes.

"What a beautiful girl she is," thought the young man. He smiled at
her admiringly, loving her look at him, while not in the least
understanding it. He had asked to be presented to Ellen from
curiosity. He had not been at the exhibition, and had heard the
school-master and Risley talking about the valedictory. "I didn't
know that you taught anarchy in school, Mr. Harris," Risley had
said. He laughed as he said it, bu