AUDREY. 89

“<The mole!’ repeated the moth, waving his antenne in
surprise. ‘What can you want to go with that blind fellow
for ?’

“*Ffe asked me,’ answered Violet, hanging her head, ‘and
I didn’t like to say no.’

““Never mind,’ said the moth, ‘you go with me. I will
come for you a little early, and as he is half blind, he will
never know.’

“*But that wouldn’t be kind; it might hurt his feelings.’

“«Feelings! I don’t believe he has any. Iam coming for
you, anyhow.’ And away he flew.

“A few minutes before midnight, back came the moth; the
- mole was already on his way, for they heard him scratching
the earth beneath them.

“Come, let us fly,’ said the moth; and Violet, never stop-
ping to think, flew off with him, leaving the poor mole to find
himself deserted.

“Nothing daunted, however, he made his way to the glen
where the first ball of the season was to be held. Already
there was quite a sprinkling of guests. The field-mouse
walked arm in arm with Buttercup; a portly frog looked
lovingly on a daisy; while a grasshopper, in green coat and
waistcoat, escorted a delicate little anemone in a pink striped
gown.

“Soon the air was full of the rustle of skirts. We human
creatures would call it the night-wind, but it was only the