"He was surely right concerning my lower lip," she said, speaking to herself. Then without the least apparent relevance, "He had been smoking." Again her words broke her revery, and she took up the unfinished braid of hair. When she did so, she caught a glimpse of her arm which was as perfectly rounded as the fairest marble of Phidias. She stretched the arm to its full length that the mirror might reflect its entire beauty. Again she thought aloud: "I wish he could see my arm. Perhaps some day--" But the words ceased, and in their place came a flush that spread from her hair to her full white throat, and she quickly turned the mirror away so that even it should not behold her beauty. You see after all is told Dorothy was modest. She finished her toilet without the aid of her mirror; but before she extinguished the candle she stole one more fleeting glance at its polished surface, and again came the thought, "Perhaps some day--" Then she covered the candle, and amid enfolding darkness lay down beside Madge, full of thoughts and sensations that made her tremble; for they were strange to her, and she knew not what they meant. Dorothy thought that Madge was asleep, but after a few minutes the latter said:-- "Tell me, Dorothy, who was on fire?" "Who was on fire?" asked Dorothy in surprise. "What do you mean, Madge?" "I hope they have not been trying to burn any one," said Madge. "What do you mean?" again asked Dorothy. "You said 'He had been smoking,'" responded Madge. "Oh," laughed Dorothy, "that is too comical. Of course not, dear one. I was speaking of--of a man who had been smoking tobacco, as Malcolm does." Then she explained the process of tobacco smoking. "Yes, I know," answered Madge. "I saw Malcolm's pipe. That is, I held it in my hands for a moment while he explained to me its use." Silence ensued for a moment, and Madge again spoke:-- "What was it he said about your lower lip, and who was he? I did not learn why Uncle George wished to confine you in the dungeon. I am so sorry that this trouble has come upon you." "Trouble, Madge?" returned Dorothy. "Truly, you do not understand. No trouble has come upon me. The greatest happiness of my life has come to pass. Don't pity me. Envy me. My happiness is so sweet and so great that it frightens me." "How can you be happy while your father treats you so cruelly?" asked Madge. "His conduct makes it possible for my happiness to be complete," returned Dorothy. "If he were kind to me, I should be unhappy, but his cruelty leaves me free to be as happy as I may. For my imprisonment in this room I care not a farthing. It does not trouble me, for when I wish to see--see him again, I shall do so. I don't know at this time just how I shall effect it; but be sure, sweet one, I shall find a way." There was no doubt in Madge's mind that Dorothy would find a way. "Who is he, Dorothy? You may trust me. Is he the gentleman whom we met at Derby-town?"