"And nothing more? Oh, Minnette! Is it thus old friends, who have known each other from childhood, are to part? Just think, we may never meet again!"
"Do you care?" she asked, in a softened voice.
"Care! Of course I do. Won't you shake hands, Minnette! You're not half as sorry to let me go as little Celeste was."
"Oh, no; I don't lose so much. I have no books, nor flowers, nor visits, nor gold crosses to lose by your absence," she said, sarcastically—her face, that had softened for a moment, growing cold and hard at the mention of her name. "Good-bye Louis, and—I wish you all success and happiness."
The hand she extended was cold as ice. He pressed it between his, and gazed sadly into the clear, bright eyes that defiantly met his own.
"Come, Louis, don't stay there all night!" called Archie, impatiently. "Old Suse has been hugging and kissing me till I was half smothered, down there in the kitchen; and it didn't take her half the time it does you two. Come along."
"Good-bye! good-bye!" said Louis, waving his hand to Minnette, who followed him to the door; and the next moment they were dashing along at break-neck speed toward Sunset Hall.
The moonlight that night fell on Celeste, kneeling in her own little room, praying for Louis and Archie, and sobbing in unrestrained grief whenever her eye fell upon the bright gold cross—his parting gift. Appropriate gift from one who seemed destined to never lay aught but crosses upon her!
It fell upon Minnette, sitting still by the window, with a face as cold and white as the moonlight on which she gazed. She did not love Louis Oranmore; but she admired him—liked him better than any one else she knew, perhaps, because he was handsome. But she hated Celeste; and his evident preference for her kindled up the flames of jealousy in her passionate soul, until she could have killed her without remorse.
The next morning the gay party set out for New York; and in due course of time they reached that city, and put up at one of the best hotels.