But as for Mr. Berners, from this time he carefully avoided Mrs.

Blondelle. He was as courteous to her as ever, even more courteous than

ever when his wife was present, but as soon as Sybil would leave the

room, Lyon would make some excuse and follow her. This went on for some

days, during which Mrs. Blondelle, being cut short in her platonic

flirtation, first wondered and then moped, and then resolved to win back

her fancied slave. So she whitened her face with bismuth, to make it

look pale and interesting, and she arranged her golden locks and flowing

robes with the most studied air of graceful neglect, and she affected

silence, pensiveness, and abstraction; and thus she utterly imposed on

Lyon Berners, whose sympathies were awakened by her.

"Is it possible, that this pretty little fool can really be pleased with

me, and pained by my neglect?" he inquired of himself. And then, human

being like, he flattered himself and pitied her.

When this course of conduct had been kept up for a week, it happened one

day that Sybil went alone to Blackville to purchase some articles for

her approaching mask ball.

Lyon Berners was reclining on the sofa in the drawing-room, with the

last number of the "North American Review" in his hands.

Suddenly a soft hand stole into his, and a soft voice murmured in his

ear: "Mr. Berners, how have I been so unhappy as to offend you?"

He looked up in surprise to see Rosa Blondelle standing by him. Her

lovely face was very pale, her beautiful hair in disorder, her blue eyes

full of tears, her tender voice tremulous with emotion.

As Lyon Berners met her appealing gaze, his heart smote him for his late

coldness to her.

"In what manner have I been so unhappy as to offend you, Mr. Berners?"

she repeated, tearfully.

"In no manner at all, dear. How could one so gentle as yourself offend

any one?" exclaimed Lyon Berners, rising, and taking both her

unresisting hands in his own; and feeling for the first time a sentiment

of tenderness, as well as of admiration, for her.

"But I thought I had offended you. You have been so changed to me of

late," murmured Rosa, with her blue eyes full of tears.

"No, no, dear, not really changed, indeed. Only--absorbed by other

engagements," answered Lyon Berners, evasively.

"You are the only friend I have in the whole world. And if you should

desert me, I should perish," murmured Rosa, pathetically.

"But I will never desert you, dear. Nor am I the only friend you have in

the world. My wife is surely your friend," said Lyon Berners, earnestly.

Slowly and sorrowfully Rosa Blondelle shook her head, murmuring sadly: "No woman ever was my friend. I know not why."




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