g of that pride!
Had that letter been sent, it would have saved you many sleepless nights
of sorrow. But it was not to be.

That night there was to be a large party at the house of Mr. Mortimer,
whom Leffie had mentioned as second to the Laceys in wealth. Mr. Mortimer
was the uncle at whose house Florence Woodburn was visiting, and the party
was given in honor of her arrival, and partly to celebrate Mabel
Mortimer's birthday. Mabel was an intelligent, accomplished girl, and
besides being something of a beauty, was the heiress expectant of several
hundred thousand. This constituted her quite a belle, and for three or
four years past she and Dr. Lacey had been given to each other by the
clever gossips of New Orleans. Mr. Lacey senior was also rather anxious
that his son should marry Mabel; so Julia was not far out of the way when
she wrote to Fanny that Dr. Lacey's parents wished to secure a match
between him and a New Orleans belle. Had Dr. Lacey never seen Fanny, he
possibly might have wedded Mabel. But his was a heart which could love but
once, and although the object of his love should prove untrue, his
affections could not easily be transferred to another; so that it was all
in vain that Mabel Mortimer, on the evening of the party, stood before her
mirror arranging and rearranging the long curls of her dark hair and the
folds of her rich white satin, wondering all the while if Dr. Lacey would
approve her style of dress.

Turning to Florence, she said, "Cousin, did you see Dr. Lacey while he was
in Frankfort?"

"No; I did not," answered Florence; "but I do hope he will be here
tonight, for I am all impatient to see this lion who has turned all your
heads."

A slight shade of displeasure passed over Mabel's fine features, but
quickly casting it off she said, "Why are you so anxious, Florence? Have
you any designs on him? If you have, they will do you no good, for I have
a prior claim, and you must not interfere."

"Dear me, how charmingly you look!" said Florence. "But, fair coz, do not
be too sanguine. Suppose I should tell you that far off in old Kentuck, as
the negroes say, there is a golden-haired little girl, who has--"

"Stop, stop," said Mabel. "You shall not tell me. I will not hear it."

At that instant the doorbell rang, and in a moment several young girls
entered the dressing room, and in the chattering and laughing and fixing
which followed, Mabel forgot what her cousin had been saying. After a time