buildings erected, new forms trod the side-walks, new
faces looked out of shop-windows, and flashing equipages, and new shafts of
granite and marble stood in the cemetery to tell of many who had been
gathered to their forefathers. If important revolutions had been effected
in her early home, not less decided and apparent was the change which had
taken place in the heiress of Huntingdon Hill; and having been eyed,
questioned, scrutinized by the best families, and laid in the social scale,
it was found a difficult matter to determine her weight as accurately as
seemed desirable. In common parlance, "her education was finished,"--she
was regularly and unmistakably "out." Having lost her aunt two years before
her return, the duties of hostess devolved upon her, and she dispensed the
hospitalities of her home with an easy, though stately elegance, surprising
in one so inexperienced.
It chanced that Dr. Arnold was absent for some weeks after her arrival, and
no sooner had he returned than he sought his quondam protege. Entering
unannounced, he paused suddenly as he caught sight of her standing before
the fire, with Paragon at her feet. She lifted her head and came to meet
him, holding out both hands, with a warm, bright smile.
"Oh, Dr. Arnold! I am so glad to see you once more. It was neither friendly
nor hospitable to go off just as I came home, after long years of absence.
I am very glad to see you."
He held her hands and gazed at her like one in a dream of mingled pain and
pleasure, and when he spoke his voice was unsteady.
"You cannot possibly be as glad to see me as I am to have you back. But I
can't realize that this is, indeed, you, my pet--the Irene I parted with
rather more than four years ago. Oh, child! what a marvellous, what a
glorious beauty you have grown to be!"
"Take care; you will spoil her, Arnold. Don't you know, you old cynic, that
women can't stand such flattery as yours?" laughed Mr. Huntingdon.
"I am glad you like me, Doctor; I am glad you think I have improved; and
since you think so, I am obliged to you for expressing your opinion of me
so kindly. I wish I could return your compliments, but my conscience vetoes
any such proceeding. You look jaded--overworked. What is the reason that
you have grown so grey and haggard? We will enter into a compact to renew
the old life; you shall treat me exactly as you used to do, and I shall
come to you as formerly, and interrupt labours that seem too hea
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