of his watch-chain, the fingers
of the other pulling at his heavy, black moustache.

But who had any desire to keep the picture of one such as he in
memory, in the new delights that were swarming in on Phil?

He held Eileen Pederstone lightly within the half-hoop of his arm. She
was but a floating featherweight. But, ah! the intoxication of it, he
could never forget: the violins singing and sighing in splendid
harmony and time; the perfume of the lady's presence; the soft, sweet,
white, living, swaying loveliness; the feeling of abandonment to the
pleasure of the moment that enveloped him from his partner's happy
heart. Great God!--and Phil a young man in the first flush of his
manhood, exiled from the presence of womanhood for five years, shut
away from the refining of their influence and in all that time never
to have felt the charm of a woman's voice, the delight of a woman's
happy laugh, never to have felt the thrill of the touch of a woman's
hand;--and suddenly to be released at the very Gates of Heaven: little
wonder he was dumb, sightless and deaf to all else but the bewitchment
of the waltz.

Phil thought he had forgotten the way, but, ah! how they danced as
they threaded their way through and round. No one touched them; none
stopped the swing, rhythm and beat of their movements.

Once Eileen spoke to him, but he did not comprehend. She looked up
into his face and, as he gazed down into her eyes, he thought she must
have understood his feelings, for she did not attempt conversation
again.

He was as a soul without a body, soaring in the vastnesses of the
heavens, in harmony and unison with the great and perfect God-created
spirit world of which he formed an infinitesimal but perfect and
necessary part.

Gradually, and all too soon, alas!--for it seemed to him that they had
hardly started--the music slowed and softened till it died away in a
whisper, and he was awakened to his surroundings by the sudden burst
of applause from the dancers on every side of them.

He did not wait to ascertain if there might be a few more bars of
encore. He did not know, even, that there was a possibility of such.
Still in a daze, he led Eileen Pederstone to her seat. He thanked her,
bowed and turned to cross the floor. But she did not sit down. She
laid a detaining hand gently on his arm.

"Thank you so much!" she said. "I enjoyed it immensely. And Mr.
Brenchfield dared to say you couldn't dance!"

Phil smiled, but did