deserted."

"And so it will be, in a minute," said Mollie, familiarly taking his
arm. "They are going to supper out yonder, and I am almost famished.
Take me down."

"And, if I can, I will make you follow Guy Oleander's lead before I
release you," was the mental addition of the naughty coquette.

It was no difficult task to accomplish. A powder magazine with the train
laid could not have needed a smaller spark to cause its explosion. Those
few words elevated the young artist at once to the loftiest pinnacle of
bliss.

"She has just refused Oleander, and I may stand a chance," he thought.
"I'll ask her, by Jove! after supper."

Mr. Ingelow kept his word. He paid Miss Dane the most marked attention
throughout the repast, filled her plate with delicacies and her ears
with compliments. And Mollie was sweet as summer cherries, and took his
arm when it was over, and let him lead her into a retired nook where
amber curtains shut them in; and there, pale and agitated, the poor
fellow said his say and waited for his sentence.

Mollie's wicked heart smote her. She liked this handsome young artist
more than she was aware of, and the first twinge of remorse for her
merciless coquetry filled her mind.

But it was too late to pause in her mischief-making, and the fun ahead
was too tempting.