Conversation had now become general, while music and games filled up
the intervals.

Evelyn Verne was indeed the object upon whom Mr. Arnold lavished his
attentions--a fact not overlooked by Mrs. Lister. Hubert Tracy was
devoting himself to the Muses, and occasionally venturing a glance
at Marguerite, who took much interest in the younger members of the
circle, and seemed happy in her devotedness to brother Fred, and his
chum, silently engaged over a game of chess. Mrs. Verne smiled,
chatted and listened to each as opportunity served, and looked with
fond delight upon the imperious Evelyn, who, by a series of
coquettish manoeuvres, held her admirer in chains apparently ready
to be put to any test for her sake.

"This new beau of Eve's is in earnest, and there is no chance for my
dear Urania. Well, well! men do not appreciate a girl of such
heavenly ideas as my celestial-minded daughter, and they throw
themselves away upon a pretty face without an ounce of brains." Poor
Mrs. Lister had murmured these sentences after the events of the
evening had transpired and she was enjoying the privacy of her own
room. She always expressed her thoughts to herself, as she judged
best never to let her dear girls know that she felt anxious for
their settlement in life.

A few mornings later while the family lingered over the late
breakfast in the handsomely-furnished morning-room, with its
delicate tints of mauve and gold, the conversation turned upon the
gossip of the preceding days. Miss Verne had not sufficiently
recruited from the dissipation attendant upon a large assemblage,
given by a lady friend in honor of some relative who had arrived