commendation followed the music.

"All Italians sing it, though few do it like yourself," he answered
quietly, restoring the fan he had held while standing beside her.

Provoking boy! why won't he know me? thought Lillian. And her tone was
almost petulant as she refused to sing again.

Talbot offered his arm and led her to a seat, behind which stood a
little statuette of a child holding a fawn by a daisy chain.

"Pretty, isn't it?" she said, as he paused to look at it instead of
taking the chair before her. "I used to enjoy modeling tiny deer and
hinds in wax, as well as making daisy chains. Is sculpture among the
many accomplishments which rumor tells us you possess?"

"No. Those who, like me, have their own fortunes to mold find time for
little else," he answered gravely, still examining the marble group.

Lillian broke her fan with an angry flirt, for she was tired of her
trial, and wished she had openly greeted him at the beginning; feeling
now how pleasant it would have been to sit chatting of old times, while
her friends dared hardly address him at all. She was on the point of
calling him by his former name, when the remembrance of what he had been
arrested the words on her lips. He was proud; would he not dread to have
it known that, in his days of adversity, he had been a servant? For if
she betrayed her knowledge of his past, she would be forced to tell
where and how that knowledge was gained. No, better wait till they met
alone, she thought; he would thank her for her delicacy, and she could
easily explain her motive. He evidently wished to seem a stranger, for