his flushed face. A shining vision was standing before him, a beauteous
queen, a gleaming fairy; he hardly knew what she looked like. She had
put on a white lace hat and her diamonds; the dress was rich, and the
jewels gleamed from her delicate arms: and her cheeks were flushed and
her curls were flowing.

The earl stared at her in amazement. "How could you dress yourself off
like that for a concert? You are out of yours senses, Isabel."

"Marvel thinks so, too," was the gay answer; "she has had a cross
face since I told her what to put on. But I did it on purpose, papa;
I thought I would show those West Lynne people that _I_ think the poor
man's moment worth going to, and worth dressing for."

"You will have the whole room gaping at you."

"I don't mind. I'll bring you word all about it. Let them gape."

"You vain child! You have so dressed yourself to please your vanity.
But, Isabel, you--oooh!"

Isabel started as she stood; the earl's groan of pain was dreadful.

"An awful twinge, child. There, go along; talking makes me worse."

"Papa, shall I stay at home with you?" she gravely asked. "Every
consideration should give way to illness. If you would like me to
remain, or if I can do any good, pray let me."

"Quite the contrary; I had rather you were away. You can do no earthly