on, and yet he had sacrificed his career without a murmur
for the sake of his wife's health. He had sundered his professional
interests in New York that he might see the colour rebloom in her cheek,
and neither he nor she had questioned that the loss was justified. In
return she had rendered him a jealous loyalty and an absorbing wifehood,
and he had found his happiness apart from his ambition.

Now she dimpled as he looked at her and he pinched her cheek.

"The mother of six children!" he exclaimed; "they're changelings." He
looked at Carrie, who was flitting nervously from room to room.

"It's a shame she didn't take after you," he added. "She carries the
curse of my chin."

"She's splendid!" protested Juliet. "I never had such a figure in my
life; Sally says so. Carrie is a new woman, that's the difference."

"But the old lady's good enough for me," finished Galt triumphantly;
then he melted towards his daughter. "I dare say she's stunning," he
observed. "Come here, Carrie, and bear witness that you're as handsome
as your parents."

Carrie floated up, a straight, fine figure in white organdie, her smooth
hair shining like satin as it rolled from her brow. Her mouth and chin
were too strong for beauty, but she was frank and clean and fresh to
look at.

"Oh, I am just like you," she declared, "and I'm not half so pretty as
mamma. There's the bell. Somebody's coming!"

There was a rustle of women's skirts on the way upstairs, and in a
moment several light-coloured gowns were fringed by the palms in the
doorway.

When the governor entered, several hours later, the rooms were filled
with warmth and laughter and the vague perfume of women's dresses
mingled with the odour of American Beauty roses. An old-fashioned polka
was in the air, and beyond the furthest doorway he saw young people
dancing. The red candles were burning down, and drops of wax lay like
flecks of blood upon the floor. Near the entrance, a small, dark woman
was leaning upon a marble table, and as she saw him she held out a
cordial hand. She was plain and thin, with pale, startled eyes and a
mouth that slanted upward at one corner, like a crooked seam. She spoke
in an abrupt, skipping manner that possessed a surprising fascination.

"Behold the conquering hero!" she exclaimed, her pale eyes roving from
side to side. "I suppose if you were never late, you would never be
longed for."

"My dear Miss Preston," protested pretty little Mrs. Carringto