improvised on the instant. I listened to him with delight; every thing
surrounding us tended to increase the effect of the spell. Music
swelled in voluptuous cadences, merry voices, and the gushing sound of
heart-felt laughter greeted our ears. Opposite the table over which we
were leaning was a door, which opened into a conservatory, through
whose glasses streamed the cold, pure moonlight, beaming on the
exotics that in silence breathed an almost over-powering odor; and my
eyes dwelt upon that quiet, cool spot, while the soft, harmonious
conversation of my companions, and the merry, joyous sounds of the
ball-room, blended half dreamily in my ears.

"You are wishing to escape into that conservatory, Miss Duval," said
Mr. Preston to me suddenly.

A warm blush mantled my face, for I fancied he thought I was weary of
his conversation. I stammered out some reply, I scarce knew what,
which was not listened to, however, for Agnes, catching sight of an
Ethiop gypsey flower at the far end of the conservatory, expressed a
wish to see it. Mr. Preston with earnestness opposed the change--the
atmosphere there, he feared, was too chilling; but as she rested her
hand on his, with childish confidence, to prove to him the excitement
and flush of the gay waltz had passed, and looked up with such beaming
joyfulness out of her dark, violet eyes, he smilingly yielded; but
first wrapped around her shoulders, with affectionate solicitude, an
Indian _crepe_ shawl, that hung near him on a chair. "_Poor little
me_" was not thought of; I might take cold if I could, he would not
have noted it; but I ejaculated to myself, "If I am too young for Mr.
Preston to feel any interest in, a few years will make a vast
difference, and maybe in the future I shall be an object of care to
some one."

We reached the beautiful flower, over which Agnes hung; and as she
inhaled its fragrance, she murmured in low words, which Mr. Preston
bent his tall, graceful form to hear,

"Thou dusky flower, I stoop to inhale
Thy fragrance--thou art one
That wooeth not the vulgar eye,
Nor the broad-staring sun.

"Therefore I love thee! (selfish love
Such preference may be,)
That thou reservest all thy sweets,
Coy thing, for night and me."

"This flower must be mine, Miss Agnes," said Mr. Preston, with
gallantry; "and when I look on it, it will tell me of the delicate
taste and pure spirit of one who has rendered six weeks o