would leave the
room, Lyon would make some excuse and follow her. This went on for some
days, during which Mrs. Blondelle, being cut short in her platonic
flirtation, first wondered and then moped, and then resolved to win back
her fancied slave. So she whitened her face with bismuth, to make it
look pale and interesting, and she arranged her golden locks and flowing
robes with the most studied air of graceful neglect, and she affected
silence, pensiveness, and abstraction; and thus she utterly imposed on
Lyon Berners, whose sympathies were awakened by her.

"Is it possible, that this pretty little fool can really be pleased with
me, and pained by my neglect?" he inquired of himself. And then, human
being like, he flattered himself and pitied her.

When this course of conduct had been kept up for a week, it happened one
day that Sybil went alone to Blackville to purchase some articles for
her approaching mask ball.

Lyon Berners was reclining on the sofa in the drawing-room, with the
last number of the "North American Review" in his hands.

Suddenly a soft hand stole into his, and a soft voice murmured in his
ear:

"Mr. Berners, how have I been so unhappy as to offend you?"

He looked up in surprise to see Rosa Blondelle standing by him. Her
lovely face was very pale, her beautiful hair in disorder, her blue eyes
full of tears, her tender voice tremulous with emotion.

As Lyon Berners met her appealing gaze, his heart smote him for his late
coldness to her.

"In what manner have I been so unhappy as to offend you, Mr. Berners?"
she repeated, tearfully.

"In no manner at all, dear. How could one so gentle as yourself offend
any one?" exclaimed Lyon Berners, rising, and taking both her
unresisting hands in his own; and feeling for the first time a sentiment
of _tenderness_, as well as of admiration, for her.

"But I thought I had offended you. You have been so changed to me of
late," murmured Rosa, with her blue eyes full of tears.

"No, no, dear, not really changed, indeed. Only--absorbed by other
engagements," answered Lyon Berners, evasively.

"You are the only friend I have in the whole world. And if _you_ should
desert me, I should perish," murmured Rosa, pathetically.

"But I will never desert you, dear. Nor am I the only friend you have in
the world. My wife is surely your friend," said Lyon Berners, earnestly.

Slowly and sorrowfully Rosa Blondelle shook her head, murmuring sadly:

"No woman eve