lighted up by the soft pleasure of the women, the mirth of the children? You would have said so--but that just then, though she did not stop smiling, Lady Markham sighed. Her children were in pairs, Harry and Bell, Roland and Marie--but where was Alice’s brother? “Ah, my Paul!” she said within herself, but played on. Thus there was one note out of harmony--one, if no more. Almost exactly coincident with this sigh the door of the drawing-room opened far down in the dim outer part, and two men came in. The house was so entirely given up to this innocent sway of youth, that there was no reason why they should particularly note the opening of the door. It could not be papa coming in, who was liable to be disturbed by such a trifle as a dance, or any serious visitor, or even the elder brother, who would, when he was at home, occasionally frown down the revels. Accordingly, their ears being quickened by no alarm, no one heard the opening of the door, and the two strangers came in unobserved. One was quite young, not much more than a youth, slim, and, though not very tall, looking taller than he was; the other was of a short, thick-set figure, neither graceful nor handsome, who followed his companion with a mixture of reluctance and defiance, strange enough in such a scene. As they came towards the light this became still more noticeable. The second stranger did not seem to have any affinity with the place in which he found himself, and he had the air of being angry to find himself here. They had the full advantage of the pretty scene as they approached, for their steps were inaudible on the thick carpet, and the merry little company was absorbed in its own proceedings. All at once, however, the music ceased with a kind of shriek on a high note, the dancers, alarmed, stopped short, and Lady Markham left the piano and flew forward, holding out her hands. “Paul!” she cried, “Paul!” “Paul!” cried Alice, following her mother, and “Paul!” in various tones echoed the little girls and boys. The strange man who had come in with Paul had time to remark them while the other was receiving the greeting of his mother and sister. “I thought some one would be sure to come and spoil the fun,” Roland said, taking the opportunity to get far from the little ring of performers. “Now we shall get no more good of mamma,” said his little partner with a disconsolate face; but what was this to the joy of the mother and elder sister, whose faces where lighted up with a sudden happiness, infinitely warmer than the innocent pleasure which the new-comers had disturbed! “We thought you were not coming,” said Lady Markham. “Oh, Paul, you have been hard upon us not to write! but no, my dear, I am not going to scold you. I am too happy to have you at last. Have you had any dinner? Alice, ring the bell, and order something for your brother.”