"The country," repeated Ella. "_I_ would rather freeze in New
York than to live in the dismal country."

Again the shadow came over the gentleman's brow, as he said, "Do
you indeed object so much to a home in the country?"

Ella knew just what he wanted her to say; so she answered, "Oh,
no, I can be happy anywhere with you, but do please let me spend
just one winter in the city after---"

Here she paused, while the bright blushes broke over her childish
face. She could not say, even to him, "after we are married," so
he said it for her, drawing her closer to his side, and forgetting
Dora Deane, as he painted the joyous future when Ella would be all
his own. Eleven o'clock sounded from more than one high tower, and
at each stroke poor Dora Deane moaned in anguish, thinking to
herself, "Last night at this time _she_ was here." Eleven
o'clock, said Ella Grey's diamond set watch, and pushing back her
wavy hair, the young man kissed her rosy cheek, and bade her a
fond good-night. As he reached the door, she called him back,
while she asked him the name of the little girl who had so excited
his sympathy.

"I do not know," he answered. "Strange that I forgot to inquire.
But no matter. We shall never meet again;" and feeling sure that
what he said was true he walked away.

* * * * *