How oft men use the gifts of God
To aid their plans and cloak their sins;
At nightfall, silence reigns above
And deviltry on earth begins.

The noise was merely the shivering to atoms of a small venetian vase which stood on a diminutive ebony table not far from the divan on which Stella was seated.

Mrs. Sinclair had accidently struck the table, and the gossips declared afterward, in the privacy of their own Boudoirs, that she was watching her son at the very time when his accidental touching of Stella\'s hand had wrought so fearful a change upon his features, and, quite naturally, they argued that an intuitive fear for her adopted daughter\'s future made her hand unsteady. At any rate, she had turned[Pg 55] suddenly pale and grasped the slender table for support with the result already mentioned.

Maurice sprang promptly forward, and motioning to a servant to remove the fragments of glass, offered his arm gracefully to his mother and passed up the room to where the Countess Martinet was sitting with her angular daughter.

Stella took this opportunity to join the Misses Huntington on a neighboring sofa and again the strains of music floated through the spacious parlors and partners were soon whirling gaily about in the witcheries of a glorious waltz.

Never had Stella looked so superbly beautiful as to-night, with the graceful folds of her exquisite white satin draperies clinging about her charming figure. The gold of her hair scintillated in myriad iridescent rays about her broad forehead and snowy neck, while the gleaming diamond star that shown upon her bosom vied with the sparkling lustre of her eye, and in the opinions of the gentlemen, at least, paled woefully in the comparison.

Before this enjoyable ball was over it was no wonder that hearts, adoration and homes were silently or in hurried, eager whispers, laid humbly[Pg 56] upon the altar of love, and many an ardent lover went home that night to dream of heavenly raptures or exactly the reverse.

To Stella, however, the sentiment of all absorbing passion was, as yet unknown. Life was at its best and brightest with her, and the brief, inexplicable sensation of fear which she had felt at Maurice\'s touch, was the only cloud, small and visionary as it was, that in any way darkened the skies of her perfect happiness.

The fog was still resting heavily upon the earth when the last carriage rolled away and Maurice walked with his mother up the broad stairs to spend his first night in ten years beneath the parental roof.

Some way Stella lingered longer than usual that night over her adieux to Sir Frederic Atherton, but the fault, if fault it was, could not be laid at her door.

His carriage was the last and if he held her hand a moment longer than usual, she reasoned that, it was only because he had known her from childhood and now, at her debut into the world of womanly duties and pleasures, it was only natural that he[Pg 57] should feel a desire to congratulate and perhaps advise her for her future welfare.

It was with this idea in mind that she let her hand rest quietly in his and raised her eyes so confidently to his face.

What she saw there was neither the courteous smile of congratulation or the benign bearing of one about to offer sage admoniti............