It was a very absurdly-foolish song as to words, just as three parts of the songs mostly are; but its theme was love, and that was enough for Ethel and for him; to both the words were no doubt nothing short of sublime. A kind of refrain followed every verse: the reader shall at least have the benefit of that. "And if my love prove faithless, What will be left for me?-- I'll let him think me scathless, And lay me down and dee." There were five or six verses in the ballad, and these lines came in after every verse. Ethel had a sweet voice and sang well. Mr. George North stood against the wall outside, his ears and his heart alike taking in the song, the words being as distinct as though they were spoken. The final refrain had two more lines added to it: "But I know that he is not faithless: He'll be true to me for aye." Ethel left the piano with the last word and came to the window, her bright face, raised to look at the moon, glowing with a sweet, hopeful expression that seemed to tell of love. "But I know that he is not faithless: He'll be true to me for aye." These words were repeated over to herself as she stood; not sung but spoken; repeated as though she were making the romance her own; as though the words were a fact, an assurance to herself that somebody would be true to her. George North went forward, and Ethel was startled. "Oh, Mr. North!" she exclaimed. "How you frightened me!" He took her hand--both hands--in his contrition, begging pardon for his thoughtlessness, and explaining that he waited there until she finished her song, not to enter and disturb it. It was one of the sweetest moments in the life of either, this unexpected meeting, all around so redolent of poetry and romance. Mr. North had to release her hands, but their pulses were thrilling with the contact. "I thought you were gone out to dinner," he said. "No, I was not invited. Only papa and mamma and Harry." "Or of course I should not have attempted to intrude so late as this. I thought, believing Madame Guise alone, it would be a good opportunity to see her. I suppose she is at home." "Oh yes; she will be glad to see you," replied Ethel, her heart beating so wildly with its love and his presence that she hardly knew what she did say. "Flora is very troublesome to-night, and Madame has had to go up to her. She will soon be back again." Very troublesome indeed. The young lady, taking the advantage of Mr. and Mrs. Castlemaine's absence, had chosen to go into one of her wildest moods and promenade the house en robe de =it. At this present moment she was setting Madame at defiance from various turns in the staircases, executing a kind of bo-peep dance.