.

"There!" she murmured in a matter-of-fact tone, stepping back.

His face, turned to the light, appeared paler; his eyes looked
studiously beyond her.

"It will be jolly on the steamer, won't it?" she went on.

"Jolly? Oh, yes," he assented, with false enthusiasm, when a black and
white apparition appeared before them, no less a person than Sir
Charles.

The governor, as the bearer of particular news, had been looking for
her. Mr. Heatherbloom hardly appreciated the preamble or the importance
of what followed. Sir Charles imparted a bit of confidential information
they were not to breathe to any one until he had verified the
particulars. Word had just been brought to him that the _Nevski_ had
gone on a reef near a neighboring island and was a total wreck. A
passing steamer had stood by, taken off the prince and his crew and
landed them. Still Mr. Heatherbloom but vaguely heard; he felt little
interest at the moment in his excellency or his boat. Betty Dalrymple's
face, however, showed less indifference to this startling intelligence.

"The _Nevski_ a wreck?" she murmured.

"It must all seem like an evil dream to you now," Mr. Heatherbloom spoke
absently. "Your having ever been on her!"

"Not all an evil one," she answered. They stood again on the ball-room
floor. "Much good has come from it. I no longer hate the prince. I only
blame myself a great deal for many things--"

He seemed to hear only her first words. "'Good come from it?' I don't
understand."

"But for the _Nevski_, and what happened to me, I should have gone on
thinking, as I did, about you."

"And--would that have made such a difference?" quickly.

She raised her eyes. "What do you think?"

"Betty!"

The music had begun. He who had heretofore danced perfectly, now guided
wildly.

"Take care!" she whispered.

But discretion seemed to have left him; he spoke he knew not what--wild
mad words that would not be suppressed. They came in contact with
another couple and were brought to an abrupt stop. Flaming poppies shone
on her cheeks; her eyes were brightly beaming. But she laughed and they
went on. He swept her out of the crowded ball-room now, on to the broad
veranda where a few other couples also moved in the starlight. On her
curved lips a smile rested; it seemed to draw his head lower.

"Betty, do you mean it?" Again the words were wrested from him, would
come. "What your eyes said just now?"

She lifted them again, gladly, freely-