window in close proximity to the head of her partner. What with her
snowy, glossy shoulders, her lovely face, and her exquisite head and
brow encircled with a coronet of pearls, her beauty seemed half-regal,
half-angelic; yet that very beauty, after the first thrill of joy which
the sudden appearance of a beloved one always causes, was now passing
cold iron through her lover's heart. For why? A man's arm was round the
supple waist, a man's hand held that delicate palm, a man's head seemed
wedded to that lovely head, so close were the two together. And the
encircling arm, the passing hand, the head that came and went, and rose
and sank, with her, like twin cherries on a stalk, were the arm, the
hand, and the head of Mr. Frederick Coventry.

Every time those two heads flitted past the window together, they
inflicted a spasm of agony on Henry Little, and, between the spasms,
his thoughts were bitter beyond expression. An icy barrier still
between them, and none between his rival and her! Coventry could dance
voluptuously with her before all the world; but he could only stand at
the door of that Paradise, and groan and sicken with jealous anguish at
the sight.

Now and then he looked up, and saw Jael Dence. She was alone. Like him,
she was excluded from that brilliant crowd. He and she were born to
work; these butterflies on the first floor, to enjoy.

Their eyes met; he saw soft pity in hers. He cast a mute, but touching
appeal. She nodded, and withdrew from the window. Then he knew the
faithful girl would try and do something or other for him.

But he never moved from his pillar of torture. Jealous agony is the one
torment men can not fly from; it fascinates, it holds, it maddens.

Jael came to the drawing-room door just as the waltz ended, and tried
to get to Miss Carden; but there were too many ladies and gentlemen,
especially about the door.

At last she caught Grace's eye, but only for a moment; and the young
lady was in the very act of going out on the balcony for air, with her
partner.

She did go out, accompanied by Mr. Coventry, and took two or three
turns. Her cheek was flushed, her eye kindled, and the poor jealous
wretch over the way saw it, and ascribed all that to the company of his
rival.

While she walked to and fro with fawn-like grace, conversing with Mr.
Coventry, yet secretly wondering what that strange look Jael had given
her could mean, Henry leaned, sick at heart, against the lamp-post over