same, he was having an awfully good time, although perhaps it would be
more proper to say he would have a good time when he came to think it
over afterward. It was an experience which would prove a mine of gold in
his memory, rich enough to furnish for years the gilding to his modest
day-dreams. Beauty, like wealth, should make its owners generous. It is a
gracious thing in fair women at times to make largesse of their beauty,
bestowing its light more freely on tongue-tied, timid adorers than on
their bolder suitors, giving to them who dare not ask. Their beauty never
can seem more precious to women than when for charity's sake they
brighten with its lustre the eyes of shy and retiring admirers.

As Henry was ruefully meditating upon the uncertainty of the sex, and
debating the probability that Madeline had called him to swing her for
the express purpose of getting a chance to snub him, Ida Lewis came to
him, and said--

"Mr. Burr, we're getting up a game of croquet. Won't you play?"

"If I can be on your side," he answered, civilly.

He knew the girl's liking for him, and was always kind to her. At his
answer her face flushed with pleasure, and she replied shyly--

"If you'd like to, you may."

Henry was not in the least a conceited fellow, but it was impossible that
he should not understand the reason why Ida, who all the morning had
looked forlorn enough, was now the life of the croquet-ground, and full
of smiles and flushes. She was a good player, and had a corresponding
interest in beating, but her equanimity on the present occasion was not