me time he asked if that
were Madam Conway's residence, and if a young man by the name of
Warner were staying there.

"Another city beau!" muttered Hagar, as she answered in the
affirmative, and ushered him into the parlor. "Another city
beau--there'll be high carryings-on now, if he's anything like the
other one, who's come mighty nigh turning the house upside down."

"What did you say?" asked George Douglas, catching the sound of her
muttering, and thinking she was addressing himself.

"I wasn't speaking to you. I was talking to a likelier person,"
answered old Hagar in an undertone, as she shuffled away in quest of
Henry Warner, who by this time was able to walk with the help of a
cane.

The meeting between the young men was a joyful one, for though George
Douglas was a little sore on the subject of Rose, he would not suffer
a matter like that to come between him and Henry Warner, whom he had
known and liked from boyhood. Henry's first inquiries were naturally
of a business character, and then George Douglas spoke of the young
ladies, saying he was only anxious to see Maggie, for he knew of
course he should dislike the other.

Such, however, is wayward human nature that the fair, pale face, and
quiet, dignified manner of Theo Miller had greater attractions for a
person of George Douglas' peculiar temperament than had the dashing,
brilliant Maggie. There was a resemblance, he imagined, between Theo
and Rose, and this of itself was sufficient to attract him towards
her. Theo, too, was equally pleased; and when, that evening, Madam
Jeffrey faintly interposed her fast-departing authority, telling her
quondam pupils it was time they were asleep, Theo did not, as usual,
heed the warning, but sat very still beneath the vine-wreathed
portico, listening while George Douglas told her of the world which
she had never seen. She was not proud towards him, for he possessed
the charm of money, and as he looked down upon her, conversing with
him so familiarly, he wondered how Henry could have called her cold
and haughty--she was merely dignified, high-bred, he thought; and
George Douglas liked anything which savored of aristocracy.

Meanwhile Henry and Maggie had wandered to a little summer-house,
where, with the bright moonlight falling upon them, they sat together,
but not exactly as of old, for Maggie did not now look up into his
face as she was wont to do, and if she thought his eye was resting
upon her she moved uneasil