communication with the Jeffcourts until he heard from her, and had
strongly pointed out the hopeless infelicity of his plan. She dare
not tell her Aunt Miranda, knowing that she would be too happy to
precipitate an interview that would terminate disastrously to both
the Jeffcourts and Corbin. She might have to take her father into her
confidence,--a dreadful contingency.

She was dressed for the evening party, which was provincially early;
indeed, it was scarcely past nine o'clock when she had finished her
toilet, when there came a rap at her door. It was one of Mammy Judy's
children.

"Dey is a gemplum, Miss Sally."

"Yes, yes," said Miss Sally, impatiently, thinking only of her escort.
"I'll be there in a minute. Run away. He can wait."

"And he said I was to guv yo' dis yer," continued the little negro with
portentous gravity, presenting a card.

Miss Sally took it with a smile. It was a plain card on which was
written with a pencil in a hand she hurriedly recognized, "Joseph
Corbin."

Miss Sally's smile became hysterically rigid, and pushing the boy aside
with a little cry, she darted along the veranda and entered the parlor
from a side door and vestibule. To her momentary relief she saw that her
friends had not yet arrived: a single figure--a stranger's--rose as she
entered.