who might observe any unusual degree of pleasure on her part. Oh, surely not, for she had been so careful--as careful as it was in human nature to be. "Was that your cousin," she asked, "that you brought with you?" "No! that--is--my wife--" he said, with a look of triumph. "Your wife! Why, what do you mean?" she inquired, thinking he was jesting. "Just what I say," he replied. Then, with insufferable insolence, he hissed in her ear, "Louis Taschereau never forgives." "Indeed," she answered, assuming an air of indifference that surprised even herself; for she had felt the hot, indignant blood, coursing through her veins. "Really," he said, with cool effrontery, "that assumption of indifference is sublime. But I am not deceived," he continued, with a scornful laugh; "my revenge is most complete, my plans have been entirely successful," and making her a low bow, he retired. And Isabel was left to her own thoughts. But this would not do; she must not--dare not--think; she must have excitement until she could be quite alone. Fortunately, Harry now claimed her as his partner. "Oh, Harry," she said, "I am so tired of sitting here." "Why, I asked you for the last dance, and you wouldn't come," answered Harry, laughing. "I didn't think it would have lasted so long," she returned. "Do you know that Louis is here?" he inquired. "Yes." "Don't you think his wife pretty?" "Very." Harry knew that Louis had always been a favorite with Isabel, but the remotest idea of the real state of the case never for a moment occured to him. When the dance was over, they went out on the glass extension room. Presently Harry said abruptly: "Isabel, I really thought that you would have been Mrs. Taschereau." "Harry!" "I did, indeed." "Harry, don't," she said imploringly. Just then Everard and Emily came in, and at the next dance they exchanged partners. As they passed under the hall lamp, Everard remarked the extreme palor of her countenance. "You are ill, Miss Leicester," he said. You should not have remained so long in that cold place. Let me get you a glass of wine." "Oh no, thanks. I shall soon get warm with dancing." "I don't think that you should attempt this galop. You look too ill; indeed you do."