y repeats coquettishly. "Have you said that to the last young lady
who occupied my place, and will you say it again to the next who follows
me?"

"Not to one of them! Mere compliments are for the others--not for you."

"What is for me, Mr. Mirabel?"

"What I have just offered you--a confession of the truth."

Emily is startled by the tone in which he replies. He seems to be in
earnest; not a vestige is left of the easy gayety of his manner. His
face shows an expression of anxiety which she has never seen in it yet.
"Do you believe me?" he asks in a whisper.

She tries to change the subject.

"When am I to hear you preach, Mr. Mirabel?"

He persists. "When you believe me," he says.

His eyes add an emphasis to that reply which is not to be mistaken.
Emily turns away from him, and notices Francine. She has left the dance,
and is looking with marked attention at Emily and Mirabel. "I want to
speak to you," she says, and beckons impatiently to Emily.

Mirabel whispers, "Don't go!"

Emily rises nevertheless--ready to avail herself of the first excuse for
leaving him. Francine meets her half way, and takes her roughly by the
arm.

"What is it?" Emily asks.

"Suppose you leave off flirting with Mr. Mirabel, and make yourself of
some use."

"In what way?"

"Use your ears--and look at that girl."

She points disdainfully to innocent Miss Plym. The rector's daughter
possesses all the virtues, with one exception--the virtue of having an
ear for music. When she sings, she is out of tune; and, when she plays,
she murders time.

"Who can dance to such music as that?" says Francine. "Finish the waltz
for her."

Emily naturally hesitates. "How can I take her place, unless she asks
me?"

Francine laughs scornfully. "Say at once, you want to go back to Mr.
Mirabel."

"Do you think I should have got up, when you beckoned to me," Emily
rejoins, "if I had not wanted to get away from Mr. Mirabel?"

Instead of resenting this sharp retort, Francine suddenly breaks into
good humor. "Come along, you little spit-fire; I'll manage it for you."

She leads Emily to the piano, and stops Miss Plym without a word of
apology: "It's your turn to dance now. Here's Miss Brown waiting to
relieve you."

Cecilia has not been unobservant, in her own quiet way, of what has been
going on. Waiting until Francine and Miss Plym are out of hearing, she
bends over Emily, and says, "My dear, I really do think Francine is in
love with Mr.