"What a charming evening it has been!" exclaims Dora ecstatically,
clasping her hands, and leaning her arms on the back of a chair. "I
hardly know when I have felt so thoroughly happy." Florence shudders
visibly. "You enjoyed yourself, of course?" continues Dora. "Everyone
raved about you. You made at least a dozen conquests; one or half a
one--" with a careful hesitation in her manner intended to impress her
listener--"is as much as poor little insignificant me can expect."

Florence looks at her questioningly.

"I think one really honest lover is worth a dozen others," she says,
her voice trembling. "Do you mean me to understand, Dora, that you have
gained one to-night?"

Florence's whole soul seems to hang on her cousin's answer. Dora
simpers, and tries to blush, but in reality grows a shade paler. She
is playing for a high stake, and fears to risk a throw lest it may be
ventured too soon.

"Oh, you must not ask too much!" she replies, shaking her blonde head.
"A lover--no! How can you be so absurd! And yet I think--I hope--"

"I see!" interrupts Florence sadly. "Well, I will be as discreet as you
wish; but at least, if what I imagine be true, I can congratulate you
with all my heart, because I know--I know you will be happy."

Going over to Mrs. Talbot, she lays her arms round her neck and kisses
her softly. As she does so, a tear falls from her eyes upon Dora's
cheek. There is so much sweetness and abandonment of self in this action
that Dora for the moment is touched by it. She puts up her hand, and,