as if to approach her, checked himself, and went back again among
his guests. Now, in one part of the room, and now in another, she
saw him speaking to them. The one neglected person whom he never
even looked at again, was the poor girl to whom his approval was
the breath of her life. Had she ever felt so unhappy as she felt
now? No, not even at her aunt's school!

Friendly Mrs. MacEdwin touched her arm. "My dear, you are losing
your pretty color. Are you overcome by the heat? Shall I take you
into the next room?"

Sydney expressed her sincere sense of the lady's kindness. Her
commonplace excuse was a true excuse--she had a headache; and she
asked leave to retire to her room.

Approaching the door, she found herself face to face with Mr.
Linley. He had just been giving directions to one of the
servants, and was re-entering the drawing-room. She stopped,
trembling and cold; but, in the very intensity of her
wretchedness, she found courage enough to speak to him.

"You seem to avoid me, Mr. Linley," she began, addressing him
with ceremonious respect, and keeping her eyes on the ground. "I
hope--" she hesitated, and desperately looked at him--"I hope I
haven't done anything to offend you?"

In her knowledge of him, up to that miserable evening, he
constantly spoke to her with a smile. She had never yet seen him
so serious and so inattentive as he was now. His eyes, wandering
round the room, rested on Mrs. Linley--brilliant and beautiful,