She but then remembered the pleasures of last evening. Winnie giving her
a knowing look, left her to her own reflections. Banishing all other
thoughts from her mind, Natalie kneeled at her morning devotions, her
low voice went up in thanks for the many blessings which were hers, not
forgetting to ask for greater favors for her dear mother and brother,
whom she expected so soon to meet, in two short weeks, at the time which
had been fixed, when she would return to her home.

A simple morning dress of pink delise, edged with white, set off her
light figure to a charm; her snowy collar fastened with a cross, and
taking a lily of the valley from the mysterious bouquet, she placed it
in her hair, and half-hesitating, lest Winnie had been playing off one
of her mischievous tricks, she descended to the drawing-room. Seated
upon an ottoman, was no other than Clarence Delwood, who arose as she
entered, taking her proffered hand with some little embarrassment, which
was soon dispelled by the adroit Winnie, who took a seat at the piano,
and with a rich full voice sang the last opera. "Your friend, Miss
Santon, has an enviable voice," remarked Delwood to Natalie, regarding
the lily buds which he recognized as of the bouquet which he had ordered
his servant to place in the hands of her attendant, giving no name of
the donor. "Yes, I love to listen to her voice, it is so full of
feeling; she has a peculiar style! The Signor tells me her voice is of
great talent."

"I need not ask of your own voice," remarked Delwood, "for your tone
betrays you."

"Yes," cried Winnie, who in spite of the music had an ear alive to the
conversation, "it is moved and seconded that Miss Grosvenor shall give
us a benefit, and if she fails to entertain us with her first attempt,