They were interrupted by the entrance of the Bennetts with Mrs. Gray, and such happy greetings were never seen before. Mrs. Bennett, grown matronly and stylish, hugged and kissed her dear pupil until she was quite out of breath. Mrs. Gray followed suit when she got a chance, and Giles Bennett squeezed her little hand until her fingers ached. Then every one told Leola she was lovelier than ever, and it was easy for her to return the compliment, for prosperity and happiness had worked a vast improvement in all three. A great chattering ensued, all trying to talk at once; for, said Mrs. Bennett, roguishly: “We must talk as fast as we can, for some one else is coming presently, and he warned us that when he appeared he wanted to have the field all to himself.” How Leola’s heart beat! how her cheeks burned! She stole a glance at herself in the long, gilded mirror, wondering if he would think her as pretty, in her costly silk gown and fine laces, as in the simple cotton gown of the rustic maiden. The mirror assured her she was even more charming now, for it is not to be disputed that “fine feathers make fine birds.” They told her all over again the story Jessie had related that morning, adding some that she had preferred not to tell. The Stirlings had done their best to lure Chester Olyphant back, but all in vain; and losing their last dollar, the girl had found employment as companion to a rich old woman going abroad, and the mother eked out existence visiting around among friends of her better days. Jessie had sent a last appeal to Chester the day before, and he had answered it with silent scorn. Suddenly their talk was interrupted by the entrance of a servant carrying a card to Mr. Mead. He glanced at it, and then passed it, with a smile, to his daughter. The visitors took the hint, and rose precipitately. “We must all try to meet again to-morrow,” Mrs. Bennett said, as they all filed out, escorted by Mr. Mead, leaving a clear field for Leola’s lover. The happy girl sank back in her chair, feeling as if her heart would burst with its wild throbbing. People had died from shock of joy as well as of grief. Could she survive it? Her face went pale for a moment--pale as a snowdrift, and she closed her lovely eyes with a gasp. There was a quick step in the room, a hurried breath, and some one knelt at her feet, and caught her two hands in a rapturous clasp that sent the warm blood bounding through her heart again, crimsoning her cheeks and lighting her eyes like stars as she opened them to meet those dark-blue orbs that in the long ago had lured the girlish heart from her breast, and taught her the most exquisite lesson of life, with its blended joy and pain. “And all the wondrous things of love That sing so sweet in song Were in the look that met in their eyes, And the look was deep and long.” For a long time that mute yet speaking gaze was enough without words, but at last Chester rose and drew her to his heart.