of all this wealth. Why did not others give | her the reverence she bestowed upon herself? And what was it that held her back from taking her place with the best of them? Was it the store? A few weeks, or months at most, would put that out of her hands. But even this thought failed to assure her. Strive as she might, she could never be like the others; this she knew deep down in her heart. Theirs had been a life of ease and of gentle associations, while hers had been. one of hardship and work and rough ways. Each had left an ineffaceable mark: even gold would not rub it out. But the child -and then she came back to Blossom, who was the Rome to which all the roads of her fancy lead. Blossom would yet be a lady; it might be when she was dead and out of the way; and death sometimes seemed a boon to the woman.

They were in the dressing-room and Mrs. Stubbs was laying aside her coarse heavy shawl as these thoughts flew through her mind. There was their nest indeed, to which they constantly returned. There they multiplied and brooded and filled her with dark fancies like uneasy wings. There was a cold sensation about her heart as she smoothed down her hair. How they would stare at her and wonder why she had come here!

"We'll not be long, you'll soon see enough of it," she said to Blossom, pulling out the somber folds of her stiff black gown, and trying to hide the nervousness which nearly overcame her. She had regarded appearances so far as to assume her best gown, but this was the only concession she had made to the occasion. Her hard bony hands were uncovered, her dark hair streaked with gray was brushed plainly down on either side the face, fast losing its comeliness. No fold of crape or shred of softening lace concealed it. There had been no attempt to make herself fine.

The bewitching sound of horns and bugles, with the patter of feet and the slide of silk over the floor, came out to meet them through the open door.

"Oh, how beautiful it is!" cried happy Blossom, peeping in. She neither hoped nor feared anything. She was only wild with excitement over the little glimpse of glory she had caught through the open door. Never for a moment did she dream of the faintness at the heart of the woman who waited in silence for her to slip out of her cloak and shake out her pretty white gown. She had worn it last-caught here

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and there with roses-at some school festival in the east. The roses had been replaced by knots of velvet, though one white bud was caught now in her curls. But her cheeks were roses-blush roses-and her eyes were gems and she needed nothing more for adornment, when she had thrown a little white cloak over her pretty bare shoulders and followed her mother into fairyland.

And a very prosaic fairy-land it was, to one without the glamour of youth over his eyes,-ornamented with strips of bunting and of light-colored cambric, every yard of which had passed through Mrs. Stubbs's own hands. Somewhat cold too. Blossom drew the cloak closer about her throat as she looked around her with innocent, eager eyes. The trumpets shrieked, the cymbals clashed and the drums rolled in between. They were silenced as the dance ended. The dancers dispersed to find seats, or promenade slowly up and down the long room. But it was fairy-land, nevertheless, to Blossom, with its bright lights (Mrs. Stubbs's own candles, if the truth were told), the music beginning to rise again softly, the gay uniforms and gleaming gowns floating by. The girl had never seen anything half so dazzling before.

They could not have chosen a more fortunate moment for their entrance. They found seats near the door as the dance broke up, and for a time, escaped notice. But Blossom was quite too pretty to have this oblivion continue long. One and another of the strangers began to observe her.

"I say, Miss Bryce, who is that little girl?" asked a young captain, elegant, indolent but curious, and one of the visitors at the post.

Claudia stared, could not believe her eyes, stared again, using her eyeglass this time.

"What impertinence!" she exclaimed aloud, forgetting her interlocutor, and turning to whisper her indignation into the ear of the friend at her side.

"Who is she, Orme?" persisted the young man, seizing the lieutenant by the arm as he hastened by, evidently in search of some one. "And see here, Örme, let me give you a word of advice," as he led him away; "don't ever be such a fool as to ask about one woman of another. You should have seen the major's daughter just now."

"Who is she?" repeated the lieutenant, whose eyes were searching the room while he only half caught the words addressed to him. "The major's daughter? Why, man, you were talking with her as I came up."

"Nonsense; who is that pretty little thing down by the door with the black bat beside her?"

"Why there she is now!" exclaimed the lieutenant as his eye followed his friend's and lit upon Blossom, and twisting his arm free he darted down the room to her.

"When did you come in? I've been looking out for you the last hour. Confounded draft from that door! Let me find you another seat, and Miss Blossom, they're forming a cotilion, will you accept the most awkward partner in the room? I'm awfully stupid, but think I could get you through." "We're only looking on, Blossom and me," Mrs. Stubbs interposed in confusion, drawing back stiffly.

"But surely she might be permitted one dance," urged the lieutenant. His chances for a word with the girl were slight indeed if her mother was to hold her by her side all the evening after this manner.

"I-I would rather stay here," Blossom answered shyly, shrinking from a stare of overbold admiration as Captain Luttrell swaggered by. She had longed to dance, but her courage failed when the opportunity came. "But don't let us keep you here," she went on, as Orme settled into a seat.

"Oh, I never dance when I can help it," the boy replied frankly; "besides, we're to hang back to-night, you know, and give the other fellows a chance. And by the way," as a sudden recollection crossed his mind, "one of them was inquiring you out a moment ago. First-rate fellow-captain in the Sixth Infantry-know all about his family-may I bring him up, Mrs. Stubbs ?"

It was an exercise of self-denial on the part of the young man and he almost hoped Mrs. Stubbs would refuse. But no, she consented at once, and he went off in search of his friend. He found him hanging upon the skirts of the major's party.

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Beg pardon for leaving you so abruptly," the lieutenant said, "but the truth is, I was looking for her myself. I'll introduce you now."

"Thanks; but believe I don't care about it," was the reply with a shrug of the shoulders as the young man turned away. "She's the sutler's daughter, isn't she?"

"She's the prettiest girl here and the best of them all, and any one who says

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"Don't excite yourself, Orme," said the other one coldly. "She's a pattern of the virtues, I don't doubt, and pretty enough I'll admit; but the truth is I've engaged Miss Bryce for this dance, and if you would be

so obliging, my dear fellow, as to permit me to pass.' For Orme, heated and almost menacing, stood directly in his path.

The music had struck up, and the dancers hastening to their places jostled him on every side.

Miss Bryce, sweeping by, gave him a disapproving glance with her cool bow. She had not overheard his words, but she had marked his quarrelsome attitude and flushed face, and decided in her own mind that the lieutenant had been drinking, early in the evening though it was. It was disgraceful that the young men should do so. It had grown up from " Stubbs's," and it would be a blessing to the post if the whole pestilent family were removed. To think that the woman should actually force herself and her daughter upon them here!

Lieutenant Orme took himself out of the way of the dancers, he hardly knew how, and in a quiet corner strove to compose himself before returning to Blossom and her mother. There was no one among them all worthy to stand beside her, he thought loyally, even though they chose to despise her. And how pretty she was! I am afraid Blossom's face went a long way toward attaching her friends to her. He | staid away until he began to fear they would wonder over his absence. Then he went back to them, very sore and a good deal ashamed for his friend, with a shame which seemed to react upon himself.

"He was engaged. I couldn't bring him," he stammered; for Mrs. Stubbs's sharp eyes seemed to pierce through him and see into his very soul. He felt that she more than half suspected the truth, and the excuse he had prepared to offer slipped out of his mind. "It's lucky for me; that is, if you'll let me stay here." He took the vacant seat by Mrs. Stubbs's side, and tried manfully in the occasional lulls of sound to interest and amuse his companions. Claudia Bryce, whirling past them, threw an icy glance upon Blossom, in which was no recognition, her companion staring fixedly over the heads of the party; girls neither so young nor half so sweet of face kept time to the music and brushed poor little Blossom's white gown. She alone of all the young ladies in the room played the part of wall-flower,-a charming wall-flower, mignonette, sweet pea, daffodil at least, but a wall-flower nevertheless.

More than one pair of admiring eyes had sought her out in this half hour before supper; but Claudia's scorn of the girl and

indignation at her intrusion, as she called it, had been evident to all and no one of the gallants was brave enough to approach her in the very face of the major's daughter. But all these arrows of scorn, sharp though they were, glanced off the head of the unconscious girl. It was the mother who took them into the quiver of her heart.

The couples began to move toward the supper-room as the dance ended and the music changed. The young captain who had scorned Blossom threw a quizzical a quizzical glance toward Lieutenant Orme. Would Örme lead the bat and her charge in to supper? It was a question the boy had asked of himself. He would have been only too happy to devote himself to the daughter, had she been unattended. But every chivalric emotion within him was aroused now, and he would hardly have hesitated to lead Mrs. Stubbs alone down the floor.

"They are going out to supper. We may as well follow," he said heroically, but with the most indifferent air he could assume. Already the room was half deserted. But Mrs. Stubbs refused.

"I'll have none of their supper," she said in a harsh voice which attracted the ear of more than one passing by, and gave an unpleasant prominence to the odd party. Something of the fire that burned within her flashed out of her eyes as she settled herself in her seat with an air of defiance. She had been sharp enough to see that every one avoided them, and to know that Lieutenant Orme's friend had not cared for Blossom's acquaintance or he would have sought her out. But she had overcome her first impulse to leave. Did they think to drive her away? She would see it out with the others. She would stay to the last, despite their sneers. But it was a passive resistance. She could hold her ground, but she shrank from advancing.

"Blossom may go if she has a mind to," she said, relenting a little. "You'll have a care over her?" she added, almost drawing back from the permission so unexpectedly granted. Might not some of these fine ladies say something to wound the child?

"Trust her to me; I'll bring her back in half an hour," said the delighted boy, leading her hurriedly away lest Mrs. Stubbs should recall her consent. "Now give me your fan and handkerchief and we'll have a jolly time," said he, taking possession of both. He tucked her dexterously into a comer behind Mrs. Bryce's broad back, which, as it was never once turned, made an

ample and convenient shield and screen. One would have thought her the sevenheaded monster instead of a rather delicate young girl, to see the way the boy loaded her plate until the contents ran over into her lap, and even then urged more upon her.

He had lost the self-consciousness which had made him dumb in her presence when he paid his visit to her earlier in the day. Now was the time to utter the few words he had been longing to speak, and yet a most inauspicious time. How could he talk of love, of undying affection with the rattling of plates and glasses in his ears? Men have done it, but at a fearful risk, and with Mrs. Bryce's shoulder so dangerously near, the lieutenant dared not make the attempt. He persuaded her to take a short promenade before returning to her mother, who sat, silent and grim, and almost the only occupant of the ball-room, like the unbidden old fairy who always cast a shadow over the feasts in the fairy stories.

The heart of the boy thumped fast and loud under his vest. I am not sure that it would not have escaped entirely but for the many buttons which held it in. Ah, now was his opportunity. The music fell low and sweet and beguiling, the candles had burned down, until they shed a less garish light than at first, and as he led her away to a part of the room where they were somewhat screened from Mrs. Stubbs's sharp eyes, beginning already to search for her, the boy thought it the happiest moment of his life. A joy just about to be snatched away, a pleasure ours for the moment, with the consciousness that it is as evanescent as sweet,what can be more intoxicating? He forgot to talk to her, it was pleasure enough to feel the faint pressure of her hand upon his arm as their feet kept time to the music. He forgot that he was to go away into danger, possibly to death, or perhaps the unconscious knowledge of this made the present moment more dear. The room was filling again. After all it was a brief joy. Miss Laud hastening by to join the dance broke the spell.

"Oh, you monopolize Lieutenant Orme. That will never do," she said with a goodnatured smile, since Claudia was not by to hear.

Poor Blossom was not used to such badinage. She took it in serious earnest.

"We-we had better go back," she said, striving to draw away the hand that had rested with the weight of a rose-leaf on the boy's blue sleeve.

But he would not let it go.

"It is I who have taken possession of her," he said clumsily, "and we wont go back just yet," to Blossom, as Miss Laud passed out of hearing. "Don't mind her, she is always saying things," he added angrily.

"But I have kept you from the others." "What do I care for the others? I had rather be with you than with any of them. I would rather be with you than with anybody else in the world," he went on hotly.

It was out at last. Not as he had intended it, but he had spoken the words that would bring him joy or pain, he knew as soon as he had uttered them, and he waited with a stifled feeling at his heart for her to reply. But she was silent now. Could it be possible that she understood and was too shy to

make response? For an instant he was dizzy with joy. It turned his brain.

"Oh, Blossom!" he began, ready to pour out all his love. Then he looked at her, and the earth suddenly stood still, and the room grew dark, for she was not listening to him at all. She was following with her eyes a figure just advancing through the door-way, and in a moment as he recog nized Captain Elyot, Orme knew that it was all over with him. He felt at this moment that he had known it from the first and that he never had had any hope.