CHAPTER I.
"My dear," said William Brenton to his wife, "do you think I shall be missed if I go upstairs for a while?
I am not feeling at all well." [Illustration: "Do you think I shall be missed ?"] "Oh, I'm so sorry, Will," replied Alice, looking concerned; "I will tell them you are indisposed." "No, don't do that," was the answer; "they are having a very good time, and I suppose the dancing will begin shortly; so I don't think they will miss me.

If I feel better I will be down in an hour or two; if not, I shall go to bed.

Now, dear, don't worry; but have a good time with the rest of them." William Brenton went quietly upstairs to his room, and sat down in the darkness in a rocking chair.

Remaining there a few minutes, and not feeling any better, he slowly undressed and went to bed.

Faint echoes reached him of laughter and song; finally, music began, and he felt, rather than heard, the pulsation of dancing feet.