I'd liever take your love, and deserve it, than try to steal his." All this time Grace was silently watching her, to see if there was any deceit, or self-deceit, in all this; and, had there been, it could not have escaped so keen and jealous an eye.

But no, the limpid eye, the modest, sober voice, that trembled now and then, but always recovered its resolution, repelled doubt or suspicion.
Grace started to her feet, and said, with great enthusiasm.

"I give you the love and respect you deserve so well; and I thank God for creating such a character now and then--to embellish this vile world." Then she flung herself upon Jael, with wonderful abandon and grace, and kissed her so eagerly that she made poor Jael's tears flow very fast indeed.
She would not let her go back to Cairnhope.
Henry remembered about the ball, and made up his mind to go and stand in the road: he might catch a glimpse of her somehow.

He told his mother he should not be home to supper; and to get rid of the time before the ball, he went to the theater: thence, at ten o'clock, to "Woodbine Villa," and soon found himself one of a motley group.

Men, women, and children were there to see the company arrive; and as, among working-people, the idle and the curious are seldom well-to-do, they were rather a scurvy lot, and each satin or muslin belle, brave with flowers and sparkling with gems, had to pass through a little avenue of human beings in soiled fustian, dislocated bonnets, rags, and unwashed faces.
Henry got away from this class of spectators, and took up his station right across the road.