"A neat conceit that last verse, and the music is a fair imitation
of a dying bugle-echo!" said Winston Aylett to himself, resuming the
writing he had suspended for a minute. "That girl should take to the
stage. If one did not know better, her eyes and singing together
would delude him into the idea that she had a heart. Honest Alfred
evidently believes that she has, and that the patient labor of love
will win it for himself. Bah!"

Frederic and Mabel retired noiselessly from their post of
observation, as "honest Alfred" made a motion to take in his the
hand lying prone and passive upon the finger-board. They exchanged a
smile, significant and tender, in withdrawing.

"We understand the signs of the times," whispered Frederic, at the
upper turn of their promenade. "Heaven bless all true lovers under
the sun!"

"Don't!" said Rosa, vehemently, snatching away her hand from her
suitor's hold. "Leave me alone! If you touch me again I shall
scream! I think you were made up without nerves, either in the heart
or in the brain--if you have any!"

Before the aghast Alfred rallied from the recoil occasioned by her
gesture and words, her feet were pattering over the oaken hall and
staircase in rapid retreat to her chamber.

"You are really happy, then?" queried Mabel. "Quite content?"

"Did I not tell you awhile ago that I was not satisfied?" returned
Chilton. "Two months since I should, in anticipation of this hour,