“Oh, certainly; their soirees, I’m told, are elegant affairs.”

“Indeed they are; I’ve been to two of them.  Fine music, pleasant company, and so much freedom of intercourse—­oh, they are delightful!”

“Did you ever see Mr. Carpenter there?”

“Oh, yes; he always attends.”

“I shall enjoy myself highly.”

“That you will—­the young men are so attentive.”

Wednesday night soon came round, and Anna was permitted to go, unattended by either of her parents, to the so-called soiree at Mrs. Ashton’s.  As she had hoped and believed, Carpenter was there.  His attentions to her were constant and flattering; he poured many compliments into her ears, talking to her all the time in a low, musical tone.  Anna’s heart fluttered in her bosom with pleasure; she felt that she had made a conquest.  But the fact of bringing so charming a young man to her feet, and that so speedily, quickened her pride, and made it seem the easiest thing in the world to be able to reject three lovers and yet be engaged, or even married, at sixteen.

Besides Carpenter, there was another present who saw attractions about Anna Wyman.  He wore a moustache, and made quite a dashing appearance.  In the language of many young ladies, who admired him, he was an elegant-looking young man—­just the one to be proud of as a beau.  His name was Elliott.

As soon as he could get access to the ear of the young and inexperienced girl, he charmed it with a deeper charm than Carpenter had been able to impart.  She felt almost like one within a magic circle.  His eye fascinated her, and his voice murmured in her ear like low, sweet music.

A short time before parting from her, he said—­

“Miss Wyman, may I have the pleasure of calling upon you at your father’s house?”

“Oh, yes, sir; I shall be most happy to see you.”  She spoke with feeling.

“Then I shall visit you frequently.  In your society I promise myself much happiness.”

Anna’s eyes fell to the floor, and the colour deepened on her cheeks.  When she looked up, Elliott was gazing steadily in her face, with an expression of admiration and love.

Her heart was lost.  Carpenter, that love of a man, was not thought of—­or, only as one of her rejected lovers.

When Anna laid her head upon her pillow that night, it was not to sleep.  Her mind was too full of pleasant images, central to all of which was the elegant, accomplished, handsome Mr. Elliott.  He had, she conceived, as good as offered himself, and she, much as she wished to reject three lovers before she accepted one, felt strongly inclined to accept him, and so end the matter.

Now, who was Mr. Thomas Elliott?  A few words will portray him.  Mr. Elliott was twenty-six; he kept a store in the city; had been in business for some years, but was not very successful.  His habits of life were not good; his principles had no sound, moral basis.  He was, in fact, just the man to make a silly child like Anna Wyman wretched for life.  But why did he seek for one like her?  That is easily explained.  Mr. Wyman was reputed to be pretty well off in the world, and Mr. Elliott’s affairs were in rather a precarious condition; but he managed to keep so good a face upon the matter, that none suspected his real condition.