will call soon and relieve you of it."

"O, 'tis no burden," she answered; "I only thought I would speak to you
about it to let you know 'twas ready any time you might choose to call.
Don't you think the bride looks very beautiful?" she added, turning the
discourse to more elegant subjects now she had gained his ear.

"Ay, quite interesting and pretty," answered he, turning his attention
for a moment toward the young couple who formed the centre of a mirthful
group.

"Mrs. Edson seems to feel wonderful smart to-night," pursued Miss
Martha; "pleased with her success in match-making, I suppose."

"Ah!" said the colonel, "does Mrs. Edson make matches? I wish she would
form one for me."

The modest maiden blushed scarlet at these words, and remained silent. A
group was just passing, and the colonel effected his escape from his
fair companion and joined them. Several voices called for him at the
piano, and, seating himself before the instrument, he commenced a
brilliant performance. In a few moments he became conscious of the form
of Louise standing in the embrasure of a window near by, her whole soul
apparently absorbed in the music. When he arose she had disappeared. He
sauntered slowly to the hall door, and stepped forth upon the piazza. As
he paced slowly down its marble length he came suddenly upon her,
leaning languidly against a vine-covered column.

"Why do you fly your guests?" asked he; "they will soon grow dim without
your presence."

"Because I am weary and dispirited," answered Louise, "and want quiet
and fresh air."

"Dispirited!" exclaimed he; "I have never seen you so startlingly
brilliant as to-night."

She shook her bright head mournfully. The hilarious voices from the
merry groups within came full upon their ears.

"Walk with me a few moments in the cool quiet of the garden," said he;
"here the air comes heavy and tainted from the crowded apartments
within."

She placed her arm passively in his, and they passed down the steps and
entered the shady paths.

"I marvel to find you so moody and glum," he remarked, after they had
proceeded some distance in perfect silence, "when you have been so
unusually gay through the evening."

She made no answer.

"Let us return to the house," said he at length.

"What for?" she asked, turning her clear eyes quickly on his face.

"Because you do not enjoy your company," he answered.

"No, that is not the reason," said she; "'tis because you are weary