"Would you like to join the dancers, Ellen?" asked Florence, turning to the fair girl who sat in a rocking-chair by the window, gazing out on the moon-lit earth.
"I don't care to join the dance," she returned; "but I would like to go and listen to the music a while."
"Then let us go," said her brother; "that is, if agreeable to Miss Florence and Mr. Lindenwood."
"I shall be happy to accompany you, Miss Howard," said he, offering Florence his arm, which she accepted, and the party descended to the parlors. They were well-lighted, and filled with guests. Edward and Ellen soon became exhilarated by the music, and joined the cotillons. Edgar looked in vain for a vacant sofa, and at length asked Florence if she would not like to walk on the piazzas. She assented, and they went forth. The evening was cool and delightful. A sweet young moon shed her pale light o'er the scene, veiling the roughness of the surrounding country, and heightening its romantic effect.
"I think you are growing less cheerful every day," said he, gazing tenderly on her downcast features.
"Can you not divine the cause of my depression?" she asked, raising her dark eyes to his face.
"No," said he, smiling on her. "Won't you tell me?"
"Father says we must return home soon," answered she, turning her face away.
"Is that an unpleasant prospect to you?" asked he, seeking to obtain a glance at her averted face.
"Yes," returned she; and he thought a shudder for a moment convulsed the slender form at his side.