n the door of a house before him opened,
and a young man, with a gay word of farewell to some one in the doorway,
ran down the steps and into the snowy street. It was Fairfax Cary. Rand
and he, passing, lifted their hats, but they did not speak. Had it been
the elder Cary, there would have been a moment's tarrying, an exchange
of courteous speech. But Fairfax Cary made no secret of his enmity. If
he did not offensively publish it, if he was, indeed, for so young a
man, somewhat grimly silent upon those frequent occasions when Rand was
talked of, the hostility was defined, and at times frank. He went on now
with his handsome head held high. Rand looked after him with a curious,
even a wistful smile upon his lips. He was himself a man young in years
and strength of passion, but older far in experience and in thought. He
did not dislike Fairfax Cary; he thought indeed that the young man's
spirit, bearing, and partisanship were admirable. His smile was for the
thought that had lightened through his mind: "If in after years I could
have a son like that!" He wanted children; he wanted a son. Rand sighed.
The day had been vexatious, and there were heavy questions yet to settle
before the evening closed. After all, what was the use, since
Jacqueline cared nothing for baubles, and there was no child! Better
live out his days at Roselands, a farmer and a country lawyer! He shook
off the weight, summoned all his household troop of thoughts, and went
on homewards through the falling snow.

CHAPTER XV

COMPANY TO SUPPER

Jacqueline arranged the flowers, cut from her window stand, in the
porcelain vase, and set the vase with care in the centre of the polished
table. All was in order, from the heavy damask napkins and the Chelsea
plates to the silver candlesticks and the old cut-glass. She turned her
graceful head, and called to her husband, whose step she heard in the
adjoining room. He came, and, standing beside her, surveyed the mahogany
field. "Is there anything lacking?" she asked.

He turned and kissed her. "Only that you should be happy!" he said.

"If I am not," she answered, "he will never find it out! But when I see
him, I shall hear that fatal shot!"

"He will make you quite forget it. All women like him."

"Then I shall be the exception. General Hamilton was Uncle Edward's
friend. At Fontenoy they'll call it insult that I have talked with this
man!"

"They will not know," Rand replied. "It was an honest du