They chatted a little longer, and then the young girl said she must return to the company, and Rupert, giving her his arm, conducted her back to the drawing-room. But once there, she was again surrounded by a merry company, and he had no further opportunity to converse with her. The next morning, however, he called at Mrs. Alexander’s lodgings, and was very cordially received by that lady, whom he found looking far better than he had ever seen her. She was rapidly regaining flesh and strength, and much of her old-time beauty as well. He had not realized until now how very lovely she was. Virgie was not in when he arrived—she was out driving with the Misses Huntington, her mother told him—and, knowing that he could not long refrain from speaking of his love for the beautiful girl, he resolved that he would improve this opportunity and crave Mrs. Alexander’s permission to address her daughter with the hope of winning her for his wife. But how to broach the subject so near his heart was an embarrassing question, and after the first few moments he became thoughtful, and even pale, causing Mrs. Alexander to wonder if anything had gone wrong with him since his return. “I am afraid your native air does not agree with you, Mr. Hamilton,” said his hostess, breaking an awkward pause; “you are not looking as well as when I saw you last.” The truant color rushed into the young man’s face in a torrent at this remark, and he made a bold venture, resolved to put his fate to the test at once. “It is not my ‘native air,’ Mrs. Alexander,” he answered, smiling slightly; “but, finding you alone this morning, I have been impelled to confess something to you, and yet I find myself lacking the courage to break the ice.” “Surely, I did not suppose that I was one to inspire fear in anyone,” remarked his friend, archly.