elt when she saw how well the white muslin
became 'Lena, who, John Jr., said, never looked so beautifully as she
did when arrayed for the party. Mr. Livingstone had not been sparing
of his money when he purchased the party dress, which was a richly
embroidered muslin, and fell in soft folds around 'Lena's graceful
figure. Her long flowing curls were intertwined with a few natural
flowers, her only attempt at ornament of any kind, and, indeed,
ornaments would have been sadly out of place on 'Lena'.

It was between nine and ten when the party from Maple Grove reached
Woodlawn, where they found a large company assembled, some in the
drawing-rooms below, and others still lingering at the toilet in the
dressing chamber. Among these last were Nellie Douglass and Mabel
Ross, the latter of whom Mrs. Livingstone was perfectly delighted to
see, overwhelming her with caresses, and urging her to stop for
awhile at Maple Grove.

"I shall be so glad to have you with us, and the country air will do
you so much good, that you must not refuse," said she, pinching
Mabel's sallow cheek, and stroking her straight, glossy hair, which,
in contrast with the bandeau of pearls that she wore, looked dark as
midnight.

Spite of her wealth, Mabel had long been accustomed to neglect, and
there was something so kind in Mrs. Livingstone's _motherly_
demeanor, that the heart of the young orphan warmed toward her, and
tears glittered in her large, mournful eyes, the only beauty, save
her hair, of which she could boast. Very few had ever cared for poor
Mabel, who, though warm-hearted and affectionate, required to be
known in order to be appreciated, and as she was naturally shy and
retiring, there were not many who felt at all acquainted with her.
Left alone in the world at a very early age, she had never known what
it was to possess a real, disinterested friend, unless we except
Nellie Douglass, who, while there was nothing congenial between them,
had always tried to treat Mabel as she herself would wish to be
treated, were she in like circumstances.

Many had professed friendship for the sake of the gain which they
knew would accrue, for she was generous to a fault, bestowing with a
lavish hand upon those whom she loved, and who had too often proved
false, denouncing her as utterly spiritless and insipid. So often
had she been deceived, that now, at the age of eighteen, she had
learned to distrust her fellow creatures, and oftentimes in secr