"Don't! don't!" he said. "Let me go, Bessie! I'm a fool--it's all over now! There, don't mind me--I'll be better soon! I've got a chance to go to Europe for awhile, in fact it's to Calcutta. I shall be all right when I come back." "Oh, my poor old Tom! Elsie is a wicked girl to have trifled with you so." "She didn't!" he exclaimed, indignantly. "Don't blame her. I won't have it. There's nobody in fault but me. I deserve it all! I'm a blundering, wrong-headed donkey, and she's lovely as--as--" Here Tom broke down, and going to a window looked resolutely out. "But you won't go away, Tom?" said Elizabeth following him. "Yes, I will. I shan't be gone but a few months. Don't try to keep me. I'll be all right when we meet again." "Oh, Tom, Tom!" said Elizabeth. "Now, be still; that's a good girl; I don't want to be pitied. It's of no consequence, not the slightest." He broke abruptly away, and disappeared, leaving Elizabeth full of sympathy for his distress, and regret at the idea of losing her old playmate--she had depended on him so much during her husband's absence. There had been a lull in the music, but it struck up again now, and the saloons reverberated with a stirring waltz. Elizabeth stood a moment listening to the crash of sound and the tread of light feet, but her heart was full and her brow anxious. She went to the window and looked out. It was a lovely night, but the eternal roll and sweep of the ocean seemed to depress her with some terrible dread. In all that splendid tumult she was alone. As she stood by the window her husband came down the hall smiling upon the lady who hung upon his arm. He had not missed her, would not miss her. There was no fear of that. She glided away with this dreary thought in her mind. Mellen almost touched her as she turned into a little room opening upon the conservatory, but she went on unnoticed. Tom Fuller had retreated into the conservatory, and was sitting disconsolately in an iron garden chair, sheltered by a small tree, drooping with yellow fringe-like blossoms, when a lady entered from one of the side doors, and passed out towards the gardens. Tom started up, and called out, "Bessie! Why, Bessie, is that you? What on earth--" The lady made no response, but looked over her shoulder, and sprang forward like a deer, causing a tumult among the plants as she rushed through them. Tom stood motionless, lost in amazement; for over a ball dress which seemed white--he could discover nothing more,--the lady was shrouded head and person, in a blanket shawl, which he knew to be Elizabeth's, from the broad crimson stripes that ran across it. After his first amazement Tom sat down again, heaving a deep sigh, and retreated further behind the flowering branches, that no one might look upon his unmanly sorrow.