Alpha Book

At the same instant the music of a waltz struck up, to the jealous
artist's infinite relief.
"Now, then, Miss Dane, if you are ready," said Mr. Ingelow, rather
imperiously.
"Excuse me, Mr. Ingelow," replied Miss Dane, with infinite calm; "I am
really too much fatigued for this waltz. Sir Roger, some one is singing
yonder. I should like to hear him."
And under Mr. Ingelow's angry eyes, she took the enraptured old
baronet's arm and walked away.
"The hoary dotard!" muttered the artist, glaring and grinding his teeth;
"the sixty-five-year-old imbecile! It is the first time I ever heard her
decline a waltz under the plea of fatigue. She's a heartless coquette,
that Mollie Dane, and I am a fool to waste a second thought upon her."
Miss Dane danced no more that evening, and Sir Roger never left her
side. She talked to him until his old eyes sparkled; she smiled upon him
until his brain swam with delight.
And that was but the beginning. The torments Mr. Hugh Ingelow suffered
for the ensuing two weeks words are too weak to describe. To cap the
climax, Dr.


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