excusing himself from his official attendance, he bowed and withdrew, to hasten to the distant sofa, where she sat alone. Catherine, on the arm of Colonel Conyers, was lost in the slowly revolving crowd of promenaders. He reached Mrs. Clifton’s side, and— “My dearest mother!” “My dear Archer!” were the greetings exchanged between them with the clasped hands. “How delighted I am to see you, yet how tantalizing to meet you in this public assembly, after so long an absence!” “When did you reach the city, Archer?” “Within the last half hour! Having important dispatches for the Governor, I came at once hither.” “I did not see you enter.” “I came in by the private entrance, and joined his excellency’s circle directly. But, my dearest mother! I scarcely hoped you would be in town—how long have you been here?” “About four days, Archer.” Suddenly both became grave and thoughtful—they were occupied with the same thoughts—of the calamities that had befallen mutual friends since their last parting. They were silent—they did not like to sadden this first meeting by referring to the mournful subject. And before either knew of her approach, Mrs. Georgia had glided swiftly and silently up to them. Now, Mrs. Georgia had passed and repassed Mrs. Clifton a score of times that evening, without once noticing her. But now that Archer Clifton sat by his mother’s side, the Circe appeared before them, dark, resplendent, alluring as ever. She was leaning upon the arm of the Lieutenant-Governor. Archer Clifton sprang up immediately, and greeted her with surprise and pleasure. Dismissing her escort with a charming smile and wave of the hand she sank gracefully, languishingly into the seat by the side of Mrs. Clifton, and glided into her own fascinating style of conversation. After a few minutes, Archer Clifton seemed quite lost to everything else, in the charm of the syren’s society, until a certain, sweet, enticing restlessness on the part of the beauty, suggested to him the propriety of inviting her to promenade. She arose with a bewildering smile, that quite drove his mother out of his head, and slipped her arm through his. They joined the promenaders. In the meantime, Kate Kavanagh, on the arm of Colonel Conyers, was moving around in the same circle, highly amused in making observations, and scarcely appreciating the sincere admiration of her escort, that was apparent to every one else, especially to the correspondent of the Fiddle-de-dee, who, in his next letter, in giving an account of the reception, made an item of the manifest admiration of the gallant and distinguished Colonel C——, for the beautiful and accomplished Miss K——. Catherine at length thought that her kind patroness might be lonely, and expressed a wish to rejoin her. In turning to retrace their steps, they met face to face with Archer Clifton and his companion. Major Clifton recognized the poor mountain-girl in that saloon, with a look of supercilious surprise, and Mrs.