He received it with a brilliant smile, bowed gracefully to her, and then left her. Mr. Richards now approached her, and taking her hand, said, almost affectionately: “Star, you have shone effulgently to-day, and I am proud of you.” It would not have been in human nature to have prevented the little gleam of triumph which flashed from her eyes at this tribute to her talents, but she said, gratefully: “Thank you, sir; but I owe my success all to you.” “Not a bit of it,” he returned, with some emotion; “you owe it to yourself alone; but I will take care that you do not thank me for nothing at the close of another year.” Star wondered what he meant, but she did not question him, and her heart was lighter than it had been before, since she crossed the ocean, as he led her from the building and walked home with her. But he noticed all the way that there was a nervous tremor about her, while she was unusually absent-minded and silent. “Who was that gentleman who came and spoke to you at the close of the exercises?” he asked, just before they reached home. Star glanced up with a start. “His name is Appleton,” she answered, and pretended not to notice that his eyes were resting curiously upon the package which he had given her. When they entered the house, Star ascended to her own room, while Mr. Richards sought his wife. He found her and Josephine together in the drawing-room, and, for a wonder, no callers with them. He informed them where he had been, and also of the brilliant appearance which Star had made before the public. Both mother and daughter sneered audibly at his account, and this aroused his indignation. His eyes began to blaze, and his wife sobered instantly; she always recognized and dreaded this dangerous symptom. “You are a couple of selfish, heartless women,” he began; “and now, let me tell you, you have got to turn over a new leaf, or there will be trouble in the camp. That girl, whom you have so despised and tried to degrade ever since she came into the house, has wonderful talent—talent of which any one might be proud. She is rightly named, for she certainly shone like a star of the first magnitude to-day. Her essay was superior to anything produced there, and her performance upon the piano something wonderful for one so young and possessing so few advantages.” “Oh, papa, you don’t mean to say that she can play the piano! I’m sure she has never touched this one since she came here, and no one can play well without constant practice,” asserted Miss Josephine, with a toss of her dark head, for she was accounted a good musician. “You don’t believe what I tell you, then,” her father said, frowning. “Well, I think you must have overestimated her talent in that direction,” the girl answered. Mr. Richards did not reply, but walked to the bell-rope and gave it a pull. “Go and say to Miss Gladstone that I would like to see her in the drawing-room,” he said to the servant who opened the door.