"You are simply perfect, Miss Hill, and nothing could be added," whispered the still hopeful Parker, who was on duty and much elated by the fact; for the girl was unusually friendly that evening for reasons of her own. "Except the Governor," she answered, peeping over her fan with eyes full of anxiety as well as merriment; for John had not yet appeared, and the little man beside her was very funny in a voluminous white neckcloth, furred coat-collar, and square-toed shoes, carefully kept in the "first position." He had longed to personate the character she suggested. Stature forbade, however; and he had contented himself with personating Benjamin Franklin, flattering himself that his placid countenance and neat legs would be remarkably effective, also the fact that he had been connected with the printing interest in early life. "If you had only told me, I would have attempted it for your sake: you have but to express a wish, and I am charmed to gratify it," murmured the enamoured Benjamin, with a tenderly reproachful sigh, which stirred his rampant shirt-frill like a passing breeze. At that moment, as if a wish _had_ brought him, a veritable John Hancock stood before them, looking comelier than ever, in a velvet suit, as he laid his cocked hat upon his heart and asked, with a bow so deep that it afforded a fine view of the garnet buckle in his stock,-- "May I have the honor, Madam?" Glad to hide a traitorously happy face, Dolly made him a splendid curtsey, and took his arm with a hasty-- "Excuse me, Mr. Parker. Please tell Aunt I'm going to dance." "But--but--but--my dear Miss, I promised not to lose sight of you," stammered the defrauded Franklin, turning red with helpless rage, as the full audacity of the lovers burst upon him. "Well, you needn't. Wait for me here till my dance is over, then Aunt won't know any thing about it," laughed wilful Dolly over her shoulder, as she was swept away into the many-colored whirlpool that circled round the hall to the entrancing music of a waltz. While it lasted, words were needless; for eyes did the talking, smiles proud or tender telegraphed volumes of poetry, the big hand held the little one so close that it burst quite out of the old glove rosy with the pressure, and the tall head was often so near the short one that the light locks powdered the dark ones. "A heavenly waltz!" panted Dolly, when it ended, feeling that she could go on for ever, blind to the droll despair of poor Parker, as, heroically faithful to his trust, he struggled frantically to keep the happy pair in sight.