may tell him to-morrow. Let me see: at noon Mr. Walraven will be at home
and alone. Come at noon."

The party was over--a brilliant success.

Mrs. Walraven had been admired, and Miss Dane had scandalized the best
metropolitan society worse than ever.

"And, oh!" thought that wicked witch, as she laid her curly head on the
pillow in the gray dawn, "won't there be fun by and by?"

Mrs. Walraven descended to breakfast at half past ten, and announced her
intention of spending the remainder of the morning shopping.

Mollie, in a charming demi-toilet, and looking as fresh as though
she had not danced incessantly the whole night before, heard the
announcement with secret satisfaction.

"Are you going, too, Mollie?" asked her guardian.

"No," said Mollie; "I'm going to stay at home and entertain Sir Roger
Trajenna. He is coming to luncheon."

"Seems to me, Cricket," said Mr. Walraven, "Sir Roger Trajenna hangs
after you like your shadow. What does it mean?"

"It means--making your charming ward Lady Trajenna; if he can, of
course."

"But he's as old as the hills, Mollie."