but
watching her closely all the time.

"And he said to tell you," said Anne, in conclusion, "but not to tell
Mr. Dexter, unless you gave me permission."

"Mr. Dexter alone?"

"Mr. Dexter or--any one, I suppose."

"Very well; that will do. And Mr. Heathcote is right; you are not to
breathe a word of this adventure to any one. But what fascination it is,
Anne Douglas, which induces you to hang yourself over rocks, and climb
up into caves, I can not imagine! Luckily this time you had not a crowd
of spectators. Bring me the fern, and--But what, in the name of wonder,
are you wearing? Go to your room immediately and put on the lavender
silk."

"Oh, grandaunt, _that_?"

"Do as I bid you. Bessmer, you can come in now. I suppose it is ordered
for the best that young girls should be such hopeless simpletons!"

CHAPTER XV.

"No summer ever came back, and no two summers ever were alike.
Times change, and people change; and if our hearts do not change as
readily, so much the worse for us."--NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.

"But, ah! who ever shunn'd by precedent
The destined ills she must herself assay?"

--SHAKSPEARE.

When Miss Vanhorn and her niece entered the ball-room, late in the
evening, heads were turned to look at them; for the old woman wore all
her diamonds, fine stones in old-fashioned settings, and shone like a
little squat-figured East Indian god. Anne was beside her, clad in pale
lavender--an evening costume simply made, but more like full dress than
anything she had yet worn. Dexter came forward instantly, and asked her
to dance. He thought he had never seen her look so well--so much like
the other ladies; for heretofore there had been a marked difference--a
difference which he had neither comprehended nor admired. Anne danced.
New invitations came, and she accepted them. She was enjoying it all
frankly, when through a window she caught sight of Heathcote on the
piazza looking in. She happened to be dancing with Mr. Dexter, and at
once she felt nervous in the thought that he might at any moment ask her
some question about the day which she would find difficulty in
answering. But she had not thought of this until her eyes fell on
Heathcote.

Dexter had seen Heathcote too, and he had also seen her sudden
nervousness. He was intensely vexed. Could Ward Heathcote, simply by
looking through a window, make a girl grow nervous in that way, and a
girl with whom he, Dexter, was dan