He arose, took her hand, and raised her up, and looked at her from head to foot, as she stood—that delicate, beautiful girl, in her elegant ball dress of gossamer crape over white satin, diamonds sparkling on her arms and neck, as he had said, like icicles upon snow. He surveyed her, from her white rose-wreathed auburn hair to the tip of the white satin slipper. He clasped her hand, and looked at it. “I know,” she said, “what you are thinking of again—‘Elsie must doff this dress, and this style of dress, for some years to come’; but do not fear, within ten years, and by the time that the beauty of your love has matured, Elsie will weave a more elegant dress than this, when her husband’s talents shall have ‘achieved greatness.’ And this little hand that you look at so fondly, so sadly—‘this pure, fresh, delicate thing, a jewel itself,’ as you called it just now—under this soft, white cushion of flesh are nerves and sinews of steel. I am very strong, dear Magnus, very strong every way. And I can work; this hand shall toil and retain its beauty, because you prize it, too.” He clasped her again to his breast, and drew her white arms up around his neck. And then that notion of isolation came upon her again like a fond superstition, and she whispered: “I do not want neighbors or friends where we live, love. I want only you. I want no one that can take me off from you. It is late. Shall I go?” “Yes, dear love,” she answered, untwining her arms from about his neck. CHAPTER XX. ELSIE IN THE ATTIC. To-night, when my head aches indeed, And I can either think nor read, And these blue fingers will not hold The pen—(this attic’s freezing cold)— I tell you, I pace up and down This garret, crowned with love’s best crown, And feasted with love’s perfect feast, To think I bear for him at least. _—Browning._ When they re-entered the ballroom the revelry was still at its height. Six cotillions were on the floor. Judge Jacky was flying about, now here and now there, now everywhere at once. Ambrosia Wylie, in a gold-colored satin, that harmonized well with her warm-hued tone of beauty, sat in the bay window, the sunny center of a system of satellites. General Garnet, who had got through with the political business that detained him at Huttontown, had just arrived, and was now standing apart, conversing with Lionel Hardcastle. He frowned darkly on seeing Elsie enter the room leaning on the arm of Magnus, and both looking so self-possessed, confident, and happy. He smoothed his brow quickly, however, excused himself to Lionel, and advanced toward them. Bowing slightly to Magnus, he took the arm of Elsie, and saying that he wished to have a conversation with her, drew her off for a promenade.