o charming," Molly answers, deliberately. "Oh,
Cecil! what will he say when he finds out--when he discovers how you
have deceived him?"

"Anything he likes, my dear!" exclaims Cecil, gayly giving a last touch
to the little soft fair locks near her temples. "He ought to be
pleased. It would be a different thing altogether, and a real
grievance, if, being like the housemaid, I had sent him a photo of
Venus. He might justly complain then; but now---- There, I can do no
more!" says her ladyship, with a sigh, half pleased, half fearful. "If
I weren't so shamefully nervous I would do very well."

"I don't believe you are half as frightened for yourself at this moment
as I am for you. If I were in your shoes I should faint. It is to me an
awful ordeal."

"I am so white, too," says Cecil, impatiently. "You haven't--I suppose,
Molly--but of course you haven't----"

"What, dear?"

"Rouge. After all, Therese was right. When leaving town she asked me
should she get some; and, when I rejected the idea with scorn, said
there was no knowing when one might require it. Perhaps afterward she
did put it in. Let us ring and ask her."

"Never mind it. You are no comparison prettier without it.
Cecil,"--doubtingly,--"I hope when it comes to the last moment you will
have nerve."

"Be happy," says Cecil. "I am always quite composed at last moments;
that is one of my principal charms. I never create sensations through
vulgar excitement. I shall probably astonish you (and myself also) by
my extreme coolness. In the meantime I"--smiling--"I own I should like
a glass of sherry. What o'clock is it, Molly?"

"Just seven."

"Ah! he must be here now. How I wish it was over!" says Lady Stafford,
with a little sinking of the heart.

"And I am not yet dressed. I must run," exclaims Molly. "Good-bye,
Cecil. Keep up your spirits, and remember above all things how well
your dress becomes you."

Two or three minutes elapse,--five,--and still Cecil cannot bring
herself to descend. She is more nervous about this inevitable meeting
than she cares to own. Will he be openly cold, or anxious to
conciliate, or annoyed? The latter she greatly fears. What if he should
suspect her of having asked Mr. Amherst to invite him? This idea
torments her more than all the others, and chains her to her room.

She takes up another bracelet and tries it on. Disliking the effect,
she takes it off again. So she trifles, in fond hope of cheating time,
and would prob