Floy felt like one in a blissful dream. In entering this splendid house, with its magnificent halls adorned with potted plants, glimmering statues, and costly paintings, she thought far less of the grandeur of the place than of the fact that it was the home of her lover. Every association breathed of him, and made the strange house seem home-like at once to her fond, loving heart. She felt herself blessed in the strange freak of Fate that had brought her to be a dweller beneath this roof. “A few more days--just a few more days now--and he too, will be here, my love, my love!” throbbed her happy heart. Alva led her upstairs to her own room, and summoned her maid. “I have brought home a guest--Miss Fane--who will serve me as a model in future. Arrange the blue room opposite mine for her occupancy,” she said, in a tone that forbid curiosity. When the maid had gone to do her bidding, she said, kindly: “My dear, you look positively radiant somehow, yet surely you must be very tired.” “I am not tired--I have come only a short journey--from Mount Vernon--and I _am_ so glad to be here, so glad that I can be of service to you, Miss Beresford, that every other emotion is swallowed up in pure joy!” exclaimed the grateful girl. Alva looked admiringly at the lovely face with its radiant blue eyes and joy-flushed cheeks, and her heart went out to her strongly, tenderly. “You are a sweet, lovely child!” she exclaimed, impulsively. “You have the most beautiful face in the world! It is no wonder my mother thought your face the ideal one for Cupid. Did you know that I wish to paint you as the little god of Love?” “Is it so?” cried Floy, delightedly; and every moment she grew more lovely. The gladness of her heart was reflected charmingly in her face. She had thrown off her disguising wraps, and in her simple attire was so lovely that Miss Beresford wondered how she would look in rich attire like her own--diamonds, laces, and rustling white satin. “But she does not need them, she is lovely enough in her girlish bloom without adornment,” she thought, quickly. “I shall not ask you to-night to tell me where you have been hidden away so long, dear, for you must have your rest, but to-morrow, in my studio, you shall tell me everything,” she said, as she conducted Floy to an exquisite room across the hall. Floy looked about her in delight. Was this beautiful room, all blue and silver, so dainty and bride-like, to be all her own, to sleep in and rest in day by day? Alva saw her glance with secret perturbation at her cheap attire, and knew she was thinking of the contrast. “You did not bring your trunk,” she said, cheerfully. “Never mind, we will remedy all that to-morrow. I will send Honora shopping for you, and she has charming taste.” “You are too kind to me. I--I have no money, and--I can not accept charity,” faltered Floy, her sensitive pride taking alarm.