grew rather sober as he watched Kitty, flushed, dishevelled, and
breathless, whirling round Lyceum Hall, on the arm of Fletcher, who
danced divinely, as all the girls agreed. Jack had proposed going, but
Kitty had frowned, so he fell back, leaving her to listen and laugh,
blush and shrink a little at her partner's flowery compliments and
admiring glances.

"If she stands that long she's not the girl I took her for," thought
Jack, beginning to lose patience. "She doesn't look like my little
Kitty, and somehow I don't feel half so fond and proud of her as
usual. I know one thing, _my_ daughters shall never be seen knocking
about in that style."

As if the thought suggested the act, Jack suddenly assumed an air of
paternal authority, and, arresting his cousin as she was about to
begin again, he said, in a tone she had never heard before,--

"I promised Pris to take care of you, so I shall carry you off to
rest, and put yourself to rights after this game of romps. I advise
you to do the same, Fletcher, or give your friend in the pink bonnet a
turn."

Kitty took Jack's arm pettishly, but glanced over her shoulder with
such an inviting smile that Fletcher followed, feeling very much like
a top, in danger of tumbling down the instant he stopped spinning. As
she came out Kitty's face cleared, and, assuming her sprightliest air,
she spread her plumage and prepared to descend with effect, for a
party of uninvited _peris_ stood at the gate of this Paradise casting
longing glances at the forbidden splendors within. Slowly, that all
might see her, Kitty sailed down, with Horace, the debonair, in her