from the gaze of strangers with bitterness.
"Will you allow me to seat myself near you?" he said, approaching Calantha's chair. "Can you ask?" "Without asking, I would not. You may possibly stay till late: I shall go early. My only inducement in coming here was you." "Was me! Do not say, what I am well assured is not true." "I never say what I do not feel. Your presence here alone makes me endure all this fulsome flattery, noise, display. If you dance—that is, when you dance, I shall retire."
The concert now began with frequent bursts of applause. All were silent:—suddenly a general murmur proclaimed some new and unexpected event:—a young performer appeared. Was it a boy! Such grace—such beauty, soon betrayed her: it was Miss St. Clare. She could not hope for admittance in her own character; yet, under a feigned name, she had promised to assist at the per-
