remor of voice,
"is the nearest and dearest friend I have on this earth. It would break
my heart, Rose, if an ill befell him. Do you see now why I am so anxious
to preserve his secret; why I felt so deeply your rash act of last
night?"

"Forgive me, papa!" sobbed Rose. "I am sorry; I didn't know. Oh, please,
papa!"

He stooped and kissed her.

"My thoughtless little girl! Heaven knows how freely I forgive you--only
promise me your word of honour not to breathe a word of this."

"I promise, papa."

"Thank you, my dear. And now you may go; I have some writing to do. Go
and take a ride to cheer you up after all this dismal talk, and get back
your roses before luncheon time."

He kissed her again and held the door open for her to pass out. Rose,
with a great weight off her mind went down the passage, and met Eeny
running upstairs.

"I say, Rose," exclaimed her sister, "don't you want to go to a ball?
Well, there are invitations for the Misses Danton in the parlour."

"A ball, Eeny? Where?"

"At the Ponsonbys', next Thursday night. Sir Ronald, Doctor Frank, papa,
and Mr. Stanford are all invited."

Rose's delight at the news banished all memory of the unpleasant scene
just over. A ball was the summit of Rose's earthly bliss, and a ball at
the Ponsonbys' really meant something. In ten minutes her every thought
was absorbed in the great question, "What shall I wear?"

"To-day is Wednesday," thought Rose. "Thursday one, Friday two, Saturday
three, Monday four, Tuesday five, Wednesday six, Thursday seven. Plenty
of time to have my new silk made. I'll go and speak to Agnes at once."

She tripped away to the sewing-room in search of the little seamstress.
The door was ajar; she pushed it open, but paused in astonishment at the
sight which met her eyes.

The sewing-room was on the ground floor, its one window about five feet
from the ground. At this window which was open, sat the seamstress, her
work lying idly on her lap, twisting her fingers in a restless, nervous
sort of way peculiar to her. Leaning against the window from without,
his arm on the sill, stood Doctor Danton, talking as if he had known
Agnes Darling all his life.

The noise of Rose's entrance, slight as it was, caught his quick ear. He
looked up and met her surprised eyes, coolly composedly.

"Don't let me intrude!" said Rose, entering, when she found herself
discovered. "I did not expect to see Doctor Danton here."

"Very likely," replied the