me, and she was six years old; a delicately
lovely child with dark, straight hair, dark eyes, and a complexion
which was as a finger-post to her father's history and her own, and
should have said "Beware!" Milly had always a birthday-party; this year
also she must have one.

But it was not a party such as Milly had been promised; with the small
drawing-room turned into a cave of delights, where a real, white-robed
fairy with silver wings and a wand presided over presents to be given
to Milly and all her little guests. The promise, in the pleasurable
excitement of the Walshs' arrival, had been forgotten by all but Milly.
When Milly demanded its fulfilment it was too late.

So the little guests could only dance--those that were big enough--or
assisted by their elders, in the form of governess or elder sister,
play at forfeits and twilight, and blindman's buff. These innocent
gambols they carried on in the wide entrance hall. Some flags had been
hung, to please Milly, against the heavy beams of the ceiling, and the
gardener had filled every niche and corner with hothouse plants.

Bent, apparently, on spoiling his sister's pleasure, the heir of the
house of Walsh must be taken with a colic on that day. His mother was
anxious about him, fancying him feverish, and insisting on the doctor's
presence. So it came to pass she was oftener sitting in the nursery,
seeing her son jogged, howling lustily, on the nurse's lap, than making
merry with Milly and her friends in the hall.

As the afternoon drew to a close, and carriages began to arrive for the
children and their guardians, Mrs Walsh came out of the nursery, and
standing in the comparative darkness of the corridor, looked down upon
the bright and pretty scene. The children in their dainty white
dresses, with their flushed faces and tossed curls, were as lovely as
the flowers everywhere surrounding them; the music of the chattering
voices, of the clear laughter, was more agreeable to the ear than that
of the piano Milly's governess was playing.

The fun, as is apt to be the case when such a gathering is nearly over,
waxed livelier as the time came for the children to part. "Just one
more game!" Milly's little excited voice was heard pleading--"only one
more!"

It was Kiss in the Ring, the old world favourite they chose, and they
formed themselves into a circle, putting the littlest boy--boys were
scarce among them, and very small--in the centre.

It was in the midst of