the two under discussion he chanced to know that they were by no means models of sobriety, having met them late one night as they supported each other’s tottering forms homeward, after a card and wine party, which ended rather disastrously for both.  He openly avowed his discontent at the intimacy their frequent visits induced, and wondered how his daughters could patiently indulge in the heartless chit-chat which alone could entertain them.  But he was a fond, almost doting father, and seemed to take it for granted that they were mere dancing acquaintances, whose society must be endured.  Mrs. Asbury was not so blind, and discovered, with keen sorrow and dismay, that Georgia was far more partial to Vincent than she had dreamed possible.  The mother’s heart ached with dread lest her child’s affections were really enlisted, and, without her husband’s knowledge she passed many hours of bitter reflection as to the best course she should pursue to arrest Vincent’s intimacy at the house.  Only a woman knows woman’s heart, and she felt that Georgia’s destiny would be decided by the measures she now employed.  Ridicule, invective, and even remonstrance she knew would only augment her interest in one whom she considered unjustly dealt with.  She was thoroughly acquainted with the obstinacy which formed the stamen of Georgia’s character, and very cautiously the maternal guidance must be given.  She began by gravely regretting the familiar footing Mr. Vincent had acquired in her family, and urged upon Georgia and Helen the propriety of discouraging attentions that justified the world in joining their names.  This had very little effect.  She was conscious that because of his wealth Vincent was courted and flattered by the most select and fashionable of her circle of acquaintances, and knew, alas! that he was not more astray than the majority of the class of young men to which he belonged.  With a keen pang, she saw that her child shrank from her, evaded her kind questions, and seemed to plunge into the festivities of the season with unwonted zest.  From their birth she had trained her daughters to confide unreservedly in her, and now to perceive the youngest avoiding her caresses, or hurrying away from her anxious glance, was bitter indeed.  How her pure-hearted darling could tolerate the reckless, frivolous being in whose society she seemed so well satisfied was a painful mystery; but the startling reality looked her in the face, and she resolved, at every hazard, to save her from the misery which was in store for Fred Vincent’s wife.  Beulah’s quick eye readily discerned the state of affairs relative to Georgia and Vincent, and she could with difficulty restrain an expression of the disgust a knowledge of his character inspired.  He was a brother of the Miss Vincent she had once seen at Dr. Hartwell’s, and probably this circumstance increased her dislike.  Vincent barely recognized her when they chanced to meet, and, of all his antipathies, hatred of Beulah predominated.  He was perfectly aware that she despised his weaknesses and detested his immoralities; and, while he shrank from the steadfast gray eyes, calm but contemptuous, he hated her heartily.