The servant who answered the bell at that moment, put a stop to Royal Ainsley's musings.

He had only a few moments to wait in the drawing-room before Miss St. John appeared.

She looked so lovely in her beautiful ball-dress that his eyes glowed and his heart beat. Before he had an opportunity to utter the words that were on his lips, the young girl's mother entered the drawing-room.

She was so gay and bright with him, that the mother wondered vaguely if she had forgotten the story which she had told concerning him.

The warning glance which she gave her daughter reminded her that she must act decorously.

The girl was very much in love, and it was easy enough for her to forgive him for having had another sweetheart.

He accompanied mother and daughter to the grand ball. He was so gay and so brilliant and so witty, that he charmed the beautiful Miss St. John more than ever, and he knew by her smiles that his efforts were not in vain.

Ainsley was the very poetry of motion. It was a dream of delight to Florence St. John, as they made the round of the magnificent ball-room, with his arms clasped about her, his handsome face so near her own.

"Come into the conservatory, Florence," he whispered; "I have something to tell you."

How strange it was the scene and the occasion did not cause him to remember that other scene and that[88] other girl whom he had once brought into the conservatory to listen to words of burning love!

"Florence," he whispered, "I have something to tell you. Will you listen to me?"

"Yes," she said, her heart beating furiously, for, woman-like, she knew what was coming. The lovely color on her cheeks deepened, the girl's blue eyes grew luminous and tender.

"Florence," he cried, "how shall I tell you what I have to say? Oh, Florence, let me tell it quickly, lest my courage fail! I love you, dear—love you as I have never loved any one in my life before!"

Looking into the dark, handsome face of the young man before her, Florence St. John saw that she was in the presence of a mighty passion—a great love.

In an instant he was kneeling by her side, his whole soul in his eyes and on his lips. It was the very first time in his life that Royal Ainsley's heart was ever stirred with love.

If Florence St. John had even been poor, he would have cared for her. He started in first by wanting the girl for her money; it ended by his wanting her for herself.

He caught the little hand in his that was carrying the beautiful bouquet of roses he had sent her, and held it tightly.

"Thank Heaven!" he said, "the time has come at last, my beautiful love, for which I have waited so long. Surely you know what I have to tell you, Florence!" he said, drawing back and looking at her.

"I haven't the least idea," declared the girl, in whom the spirit of coquetry was strong. "Really, I do not understand."

[89]

"There needs be no understanding, my bea............