Chapter I.

"My dear," said William Brenton to his wife, "do you think I shall be missed if I go upstairs for a while? I am not feeling at all well."

"Oh, I‘m so sorry, Will," replied Alice, looking concerned； "I will tell them you are indisposed."

"No, don‘t do that," was the answer； "they are having a very good time, and I suppose the dancing will begin shortly； so I don‘t think they will miss me. If I feel better I will be down in an hour or two； if not, I shall go to bed. Now, dear, don‘t worry； but have a good time with the rest of them."

William Brenton went quietly upstairs to his room, and sat down in the darkness in a rocking chair. Remaining there a few minutes, and not feeling any better, he slowly undressed and went to bed. Faint echoes reached him of laughter and song； finally, music began, and he felt, rather than heard, the pulsation of dancing feet. Once, when the music had ceased for a time, Alice tiptoed into the room, and said in a quiet

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