rself to look at him critically now--not with just the
cursory glance she had bestowed upon Henry's friend at first--for he had
turned and was talking to Madame Imogen whom Sabine had signed to pour
out the tea--she was not sure if her own hand might not have shaken a
little and it were wiser to take no risks.

He was horribly good-looking--that jumped to the eye--and with a
careless, indifferent grace--five years had only matured and increased
his attractions. He had "it"--manifesting in every part of him and his
atmosphere! A magnetism, a hateful, odious power which she felt, and
fiercely resented. He had recovered completely from whatever shock he
had felt upon seeing her it would seem! for his face looked absolutely
unconcerned now and perfectly at ease.

She called all her forces together and played the part of the radiant,
well-mannered hostess, being even extra sweet and charming to Henry,
who was in the seventh heaven in consequence. The dreaded introduction
of his too-fascinating friend at Heronac had passed off well and his
adored lady did not seem to be taking any notice of him.

Michael did not seek by word or look to engage her in personal
conversation; if he had really been a stranger who did not even find his
hostess fair, he could not have been more casual or less impressed. And
all the while his pulses were bounding and he was growing more and more
filled with astonishment and emotion.

At last a thought came. Why, of course! Henry had told her he was
coming, so she had expected the meeting and had had time to school
herself to act! But this straw was not long vouchsafed him, and then
stupefaction set in, for Henry chanced to say:

"You must forgive me for not having time to write you my friend's name
in my postscript, the post was off that minute--you had to take him on
trust!"

"I do not know that I even caught it just now!" Sabine returned archly.
"Mr. ----?"

And Henry, engaged for a moment taking a second cup of tea from Madame
Imogen's fat hand, Michael answered for him, looking straight into her
eyes:

"Michael Howard Arranstoun of Arranstoun over the border in
Scotland--like Gretna Green."

"How romantic that sounds," Madame Imogen chimed in. "Why, it's a name
fit for a stage play I do think. A party of my friends visited that very
castle only last fall. Mrs. Howard dear, it's as well known as the
Trossachs to investigators of the antique!"

"Wonderfully interesting!" Sabine remarke