o her stately sister.

"Take care, Eeny! Don't let Kate bewitch you. Don't you know that she is
a sorceress, and throws a glamour over all she meets? She's uncanny, I
give you warning--a witch; that's the word for it!"

Eeny's reply was to lift Kate's hand and kiss it.

"Do witches ever eat, papa?" laughed Miss Danton; "because I am very
hungry. What time do we dine?"

"What time, Miss Grace?" asked the Captain.

"Immediately, if you wish, sir."

"Immediately let it be, then."

Grace rang and ordered dinner to be served. Thomas, the old butler, and
a boy in buttons made their appearance with the first course. Grace had
always presided, but this evening she sat beside Eeny, and Miss Kate
took the head of the table.

"The first time, papa," she said. "If I make any blunders, tell me."

"Oh, papa!" exclaimed Eeny, "I thought some one else was coming. A sick
gentleman--Mr. what?--oh, Richards?"

The face of Captain Danton and his eldest daughter darkened suddenly at
the question. Grace saw it in surprise.

"He will be here presently," he said, but he said it with an air of
restraint; and Kate, leaning forward with that radiant smile of hers,
began telling Eeny some story of their life at sea that made her forget
Mr. Richards.

They adjourned to the drawing-room after dinner. A long, low, sumptuous
apartment, very stately and very grand, and decorated with exquisite
taste.

"What a beautiful room!" Kate said. "We had nothing half so quaint and
old as this at home, papa?"

There was a grand piano near one of the tall windows, with a music-rack
beside it, and the young lady went over and opened it, and ran her
fingers with a masterly touch over the keys.

"That's right, Kate," said her father; "give us some music. How do you
like your piano?"

"Like is not the word, papa. It is superb!"

The white hands sparkled over the polished ivory keys, and the room was
filled with melody. Eeny stood by the piano with a rapt face. Captain
Danton sat in an arm-chair and listened with half-closed eyes, and Grace
sat down in a corner, and drew from her pocket her crochet.

"Oh, Kate, how beautifully you play?" Eeny cried ecstatically, when the
flying hands paused, "I never heard anything like that. What was it?"

"Only a German waltz, you little enthusiast! Don't you play?"

"A little. Rose plays too, polkas and waltzes; but bah! not like that."

"Who is your teacher?"

"Monsieur De Lancey. He comes from Montreal