"Why do I care? It's nothing to me," she thought, and, with a proud

step, she was leaving the church, when her aunt, who was shaking hands

with the Hethertons, signed for her to join her.

The blonde was now coming down the aisle with Mr. Leighton, and

joined the group just as Anna was introduced as "My niece, Miss Anna

Ruthven."

"Oh, you are the Anna of whom I have heard so much from Ada Fuller.

You were at school together in Troy," Miss Fanny said, her searching

eyes taking in every point as if she were deciding how far her new

acquaintance was entitled to the praise she had heard bestowed upon

her.

"I know Miss Fuller--yes;" and Anna bowed haughtily, turning next to

the blonde, Miss Lucy Harcourt, who was telling Colonel Hetherton how

she had met Mr. Leighton first among the Alps, and afterwards traveled

with him until the party returned to Paris, where he left them for

America.

"I was never so surprised in my life as I was to find him here. Why,

it actually took my breath for a moment," she went on, "and I greatly

fear that, instead of listening to his sermon, I have been roaming

amid that Alpine scenery and basking again in the soft moonlight of

Venice. I heard you singing, though," she said, when Anna was

presented to her, "and it helped to keep up the illusion--it was so

like the music heard from a gondola that night, when Mr. Leighton and

myself made a voyage through the streets of Venice. Oh, it was so

beautiful," and the blue eyes turned to Mr. Leighton for confirmation

of what the lips had uttered.

"Which was beautiful?--Miss Ruthven's singing or that moonlight night

in Venice?" young Bellamy asked, smiling down upon the little lady who

still held Anna's hand, and who laughingly replied: "Both, of course, though the singing is just now freshest in my

memory. I like it so much. You must have had splendid teachers," and

she turned again to Anna, whose face was suffused with blushes as she

met the rector's eyes, for to his suggestions and criticisms and

teachings she owed much of that cultivation which had so pleased and

surprised the stranger.

"Oh, yes, I see it was Arthur. He tried to train me once, and told me

I had a squeak in my voice. Don't you remember?--those frightfully

rainy days in Rome?" Miss Harcourt said, the Arthur dropping from her

lips as readily as if they had always been accustomed to speak it.

She was a talkative, coquettish little lady, but there was something

about her so genuine and cordial, that Anna felt the ice thawing

around her heart, and even returned the pressure of the snowy fingers

which had twined themselves around her, as Lucy rattled on until the

whole party left the church. It had been decided that Mrs. Meredith

should call at Prospect Hill as early as Tuesday, at least; and, still

holding Anna's hand Miss Harcourt whispered to her the pleasure it

would be to see her again.




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