utes, and then took his departure without making his way into the room. He had answered the purpose for which he had been invited, and left Miss Dunstable in a happy frame of mind.
"I am very glad that he came," said Mrs. Harold Smith, with an air of triumph.
"Yes, I am glad," said Miss Dunstable, "though I am thoroughly ashamed that I should be so. After all, what good has he done to me or to any one?" And, having uttered this moral reflection, she made her way into the rooms, and soon discovered Dr. Thorne standing by himself against the wall.
"Well, doctor," she said, "where are Mary and Frank? You do not look at all comfortable, standing here by yourself."
"I am quite as comfortable as I expected, thank you," said he. "They are in the room somewhere, and, as I believe, equally happy."
"That's spiteful in you, doctor, to speak in that way. What would you say if you were called on to endure all that I have gone through this evening?"
"There is no accounting for tastes, but I presume you like it."
"I am not so sure of that. Give me your arm, and let me get some supper. One always likes the idea of having done hard work, and one always likes to have been successful."
"We all know that virtue is its own reward," said the doctor.
"Well, that is something hard upon me," said Miss Dunstable, as she sat down to table. "And you really think that no good of any sort can come from my giving such a party as this?"
"Oh yes; some people, no doubt, have been amused."
"It is all vanity in your estimation," said Miss Dunstable—"vanity and vexation of spirit. Well, there is a good deal of the latter, certainly. Sherry, if you please. I would give any thing for a glass of beer, but that is out of the question. Vanity and vexation of spirit! And yet I meant to do good."
"Pray, do not suppose that I am condemning you, Miss Dunstable."
"Ah! but I do suppose it. Not only you, but another
