A spasm of pain convulsed Rosamond Arleigh’s fair face for a moment and her form trembled perceptibly.

Violet started in alarm.

“What a selfish thing I am!” she exclaimed. “Here I am keeping you here when you ought to go to your own room and lie down. Come, dear; I can not return to my guests and know that you are out here alone and ill. And there is Leonard coming now; he is looking for me. Will you not let me go upstairs with you, mamma?”

More to satisfy Violet than for any other reason, Rosamond Arleigh arose to her feet and allowed her daughter to lead her into the hall, which runs through the center of the house, and up the broad staircase, half hidden in flowers.

The band was playing sweetly, sadly, by way of interlude, “Ah, che le morte!”

Rosamond Arleigh’s eyes grew misty.

She stopped abruptly. She had spoken the words half aloud, and Violet had heard them.

“Mamma,” her sweet voice full of wistfulness, “are not you happy?”

“I—happy?”

She has reached the door of her own room now, and[Pg 10] opening it, passes within, followed closely by her daughter.

[Pg 10]

“Happy? Why, of course—of course I am happy! Ha! ha! Why not? Why should I be anything else but happy and—and gay? Now, go down-stairs, dear, back to your guests and the dance. And don’t forget, Violet, that you are only eighteen, and this is your first ball!”

The girl obeys unwillingly, for there is something strange in her mother’s face, and the dark eyes glitter wildly.

“Kiss me, mamma,” she pleads, throwing her white arms about her mother’s neck. “I shall be awfully uneasy about you all the time, and I will come back to you as soon as I can, and——”

“No, dear; don’t do that. I am going to retire now and rest. The music does not disturb me. I—I rather like to hear it. Kiss me again, Violet. Good-night, my baby. May God and the holy angels have you ever in their keeping! Good-bye—good-bye!”

And long afterward it struck home to Violet Arleigh’s heart, with all the force and intensity of a blow, how, instead of 

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