But it was too late to pause in her mischief-making, and the fun ahead was too tempting. "Speak, Miss Dane," Mr. Ingelow implored: "for pity's sake, don't say you have led me on only to jilt me in cold blood at the last!" "Rather strong language, Mr. Ingelow," said Mollie, coolly pulling to pieces a rose. "I have not led you on, have I? I have been friendly with you because I liked you--as I have been with a dozen others." "Then I am to consider myself rejected, Miss Dane?" He stood up before her, very white, with eyes of unspeakable reproach. "What a hurry you are in!" said Mollie, pettishly. "Give me until to-morrow. I will think it over. Between twelve and one I will be at home; come then and you shall have your answer. There! let us go back to the ball-room. I have promised this redowa to Mr. Sardonyx." Mr. Ingelow, in profound silence, led Miss Dane back to the ball-room, where they found the elegant lawyer searching for his partner. "I thought you had forgotten me, Miss Dane," he said, taking her off at once. "Impossible, Mr. Sardonyx," laughed Mollie. "So sorry to have kept you waiting; but better late than never." That dance was the old story over again. At its close the lawyer was so bewitched that he hardly knew whether he stood on his head or heels. "It is coming!" thought wicked Mollie, looking sideways at him, "and only wants a proper place to come in." Aloud: "It is so warm here--I feel quite faint, really. Suppose we step out on the piazza a moment?" An instant later and they emerged through the drawing-room window to the piazza, Mollie wrapped in a scarlet shawl, along which her bright curls waved like sunshine. The night was still, warm, and moonlight; the twinkling lights of the great city shone like a shower of stars. And here, for the third time that eventful night, Mollie Dane listened to an ardent avowal of love. For the third time the long lashes drooped over the mischievous eyes. "This is so sudden--so unexpected--Mr. Sardonyx! I feel highly complimented, of course; but still you must pardon me if I do not reply at once. Give me until to-morrow, at noon. Come then and you will be answered." She fluttered away like a spirit with the last words, leaving the hopeful lawyer standing in ecstasy. Of course she meant to accept him, or she would have refused him on the spot. For the rest of the time Miss Dane was exclusively the Welsh baronet's, and listened with unruffled serenity to his reproaches. "You are driving me distracted, Mollie," he said, piteously. "You must let me speak to your guardian without further delay. I insist upon it." "Very well," replied Miss Dane, calmly. "As you please, certainly. You may tell him to-morrow. Let me see: at noon Mr. Walraven will be at home and alone. Come at noon." The party was over--a brilliant success. Mrs. Walraven had been admired, and Miss Dane had scandalized the best metropolitan society worse than ever.