ot been lighted up at night, as far as he
could remember, since the days when his mother was accustomed to sit
there. If he came home early he had always used the library, which was
on the other side of the house and at the back.

He went into the front drawing-room, which was empty; but a fire burnt
in the back one, and before it someone was seated. It was not the girl
he had found in the park. It was a lady whom he didn't recognize, but
clearly a lady. She was reading a book, and had evidently not heard
his entrance or his step.

With the shadows of the front drawing-room behind him he stood between
the portieres, and looked. He had looked for some seconds before the
lady raised her eyes. She raised them with a start. Slowly there stole
into her cheek the dark red of confusion. She dropped the book. She
rose.

It wasn't till she rose that he knew her. It wasn't till he knew her
that he was seized by an astonishment which almost made him laugh. It
wasn't till he almost laughed that he went forward with the words,
which insensibly bridged some of the gulf between them:

"Oh! So this is--_you_!"

Chapter XII

Letty had not heard Allerton's entrance or approach because for the
first time in her life she was lost in the magic of Hans Andersen.

"The sun had just gone down as the little mermaid lifted her head
above the water. The clouds were brilliant in purple and gold, and
through the pale, rose-tinged air the evening star shone clear and
bright. The air was warm and mild; the sea at rest. A great ship with
three masts lay close by, only one sail unfurled, for there was no
breath of air, and the sailors sat aloft in the rigging or leaned
lazily over the bulwarks. Music and singing filled the air, and as the
sky darkened hundreds of Chinese lanterns were lighted. It seemed as
if the flags of every nation were hung out. The little mermaid swam up
to the cabin window, and every time she rose upon the waves she could
see through the clear glass that the room was full of brilliantly
dressed people. Handsomest of all was the young prince with the great
dark eyes."

Allerton's eyes were dark, and though she did not consider him
precisely young, the analogy between him and the hero of the tale was
sufficient to take her eyes from the book and to set her to dreaming.

"He could not be more than sixteen years old, and this was his
birthday. All this gaiety was in honor of him; the sailors danced upon
the deck;