it."

Madam Conway bit her lip, but Mr. Carrollton, who was prepared for
anything from Maggie Miller, was not in the least displeased, and,
consulting his diamond-set watch, which pointed to nearly ten, he
asked if it were not time to go.

"Certainly," said Madam Conway. "You remain here, Maggie; I will bring
down your shawl," and she glided from the room, leaving them purposely
alone.

Maggie was a good deal astonished, slightly embarrassed, and a little
provoked, all of which Arthur Carrollton readily saw; but this did
not prevent his talking to her, and during the few minutes of Madam
Conway's absence he decided that neither Margaret's beauty, nor yet
her originality, had been overrated by her partial grandmother, while
Maggie, on her part, mentally pronounced him "the finest-looking, the
most refined, the most gentlemanly, the proudest, and the hatefulest
man she had ever seen!"

Wholly unconscious of her cogitation, he wrapped her shawl very
carefully about her, taking care to cover her white shoulders from the
night air; then offering his arm to her grandmother, he led the way to
the carriage, whither she followed him, wondering if Henry would be
jealous, and thinking her first act would be to tell him how she hated
Arthur Carrollton, and always should!

* * * * *

It was a gay, brilliant scene which Mrs. Morton's drawing room