the way; and, at last, a groan forced its way out of him.

Faint as the sound was, Grace's quick ear caught it, and she turned her
head. She saw him directly, and blushed high, and turned pale, all in a
moment; for, in that single moment, her swift woman's heart told her why
he was so ghastly, and why that sigh of distress.

She stopped short in her walk, and began to quiver from head to foot.

But, after a few moments of alarm, distress, and perplexity, love and
high spirit supplied the place of tact, and she did the best and most
characteristic thing she could. Just as Mr. Coventry, who had observed
her shiver, was asking her if she found it too cold, she drew herself up
to her full height, and, turning round, kissed her hand over the balcony
to Henry Little with a sort of princely grandeur, and an ardor of
recognition and esteem that set his heart leaping, and his pale cheek
blushing, and made Coventry jealous in his turn. Yes, one eloquent
gesture did that in a moment.

But the brave girl was too sensitive to prolong such a situation: the
music recommenced at that moment, and she seized the opportunity, and
retired to the room; she courtesied to Little at the window, and this
time he had the sense to lift his hat to her.

The moment she entered the room Grace Carden slipped away from Mr.
Coventry, and wound her way like a serpent through the crowd, and found
Jael Dence at the door. She caught her by the arm, and pinched her. She
was all trembling. Jael drew her up the stairs a little way.

"You have seen him out there?"

"Yes; and I--oh!"

"There! there. Think of the folk. Fight it down."

"I will. Go to him, and say I can't bear it. Him to stand there--while
those I don't care a pin for--oh, Jael, for pity's sake get him home to
his mother."

"There, don't you fret. I know what to say."

Jael went down; borrowed the first shawl she could lay her hand on;
hooded herself with it, and was across the road in a moment.

"You are to go home directly."

"Who says so?"

"She does."

"What, does she tell me to go away, and leave her to him?"

"What does that matter? her heart goes with you."

"No, no."

"Won't you take my word for it? I'm not given to lying."

"I know that. Oh, Jael, sweet, pretty, good-hearted Jael, have pity on
me, and tell me the truth: is it me she loves, or that Coventry?"

"It is you."

"Oh, bless you! bless you! Ah, if I could only be sure of that, what
wouldn't I do for h