best, and turn away from Alexandra.

At dinner that night, my grandmother said "You must go to Picault's
ball, my dear;" and my grave, oracular father added: "Yes, you shall go
among our people now. I am about to send you to France."

The prospect of that journey, to which it had been my joy at other times
to look forward, affected me little in my disturbed condition.




CHAPTER X.

THE ENTHUSIASM OF SOCIAL PLEASURE.


Grace Carter came over on the way to the ball, and when I descended I
found her entertaining my grandmother, while a young man named Chinic,
teaming with good nature and compliments, sat near her and rising with
the rest grasped me by the hand as I entered. Grace too, smiling, held
out her hand. As we went to the door my grandmother delivered me over to
her, saying playfully: "Chamilly will be in your charge this evening. He
is melancholy. C'est à toi de le guérir."

"I will be his sister of Charity!" she cried merrily and pressed my arm.
I laughed. It was not so undelightful to be taken into the companionship
of a graceful girl.

As we whirled along in the carriage, the half-moon in the dark blue sky,