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228 "Hold there!" cried Philip; "I did n't kiss you. nor, I am sure, did you kiss me in return."

"I am sure 't was intended for you, then," replied Rose, whilst her lover rubbed his hair down, for fear it should stand on end.

"If 't was not you," continued Rose, anxiously, "I will believe all that you have been telling me."

But as she went on in her story a light seemed to break in on her, and she exclaimed: "And, after all, I do not believe it was Prince Julian in your coat!"

Philip was certain it was, and cried: "The rascal! He stole my kisses—now I understand! That's the reason why he wanted to take my place and gave me his mask!" And now the stories he had heard at the masquerade came into Philip's head. He asked if anybody had called at her mother's to offer her money; if any gentleman was much about Milk Street; if she saw any one watching her at church; but to all his questions her answers were so satisfactory, that it was impossible to doubt her total ignorance of all the machinations of the rascally courtiers. He warned her against all the advances of philanthropical and compassionate princes—and Rose warned him against the dangers of a masked ball and adventures with ladies of rank, by which many young men have been made unhappy—and as everything was now for-