her coming womanhood that had burst into sudden flower.

At the last moment she cast all her scruples away from her, and snatched
up a slip of paper.

"I will be there. Daphne," were the words she wrote, and though her
conscience smote her as she did it, she stifled it fiercely. Had she not
promised him that one dance long ago?

She met him at dinner with a face of smiling unconcern. The new force
within had imbued her with a wondrous strength. She exulted in the
thought of her power over him, transient though she knew it to be. Deep
down in her heart she was afraid, yet was she wildly daring. It was her
last night, and she was utterly reckless.

She left her note in his hand with the utmost coolness when she bade him
good night in the vestibule. She bade good night to Scott also, but she
met his eyes for no more than a second; and then she had to stifle afresh
the sharp pang at her heart.

She went away up the stairs with Isabel, leaving them smoking over their
coffee, leaving also the dreamy strains of the band, the gay laughter and
movement of the happy crowd that drifted towards the ballroom.

Isabel accompanied her to her room. "You are a dear, good child," she
said tenderly, as she held her for a last kiss. "I shall never forget how
sweetly you gave up the thing you wanted so much."

Dinah clung to her fast for a moment or two, and her hold was passionate.
"Oh, don't praise me for that!" she whispered into Isabel's neck. "I am