y.

Gregory made his way to her and when she saw him she started to meet
him, gladly, but without surprise. "Where is Tante?" she said, "Is she
already in the train? Did she send you for me?"

"You are in very good time," he reassured her. "She is over there--you
see her feather now, don't you. I'll take you to her."

"Thank you so much. It has been a great rush. You have heard of the
misfortunes? By good chance I found the quickest cab."

She was walking beside him, her eyes fixed before them on the group
where she saw her guardian's plume and veil. "I don't know what Tante
would have done if Victor had not been here in time to say good-bye to
her."

Madame von Marwitz was holding a parting reception before the open door
of her saloon carriage. Flowers and fruits lay on the tables. Louise and
Miss Scrotton's maid piled rugs and cushions on the chairs and divans.
One of the Jewish gentlemen stood with his hat pushed off his forehead
talking in low, important tones to a pallid young newspaper man who made
rapid notes.

Madame von Marwitz at once caught sight of Karen and Victor. Past the
intervening heads she beckoned Karen to come to her and she and Gregory
exchanged salutes. In her swift smile on seeing him he read a mild
amusement; she could only think that, like everybody else, he had come
to see her off.

The cohorts opened to receive Miss Woodruff and Madame von Marwitz
enfolded her and stooped to kiss Victor's head.

Gregory watched the little scene, which was evidently touching to all
who witnessed it, and then turned to find Professor Blackburn at his
elbow. He, too, it appeared, had been watching Madame von Marwitz. "Yes;
I heard her two years ago in Oxford," he said; "and even my antique
blood was stirred, as much by her personality as by her music. A most
romantic, most pathetic woman. What eyes and what a smile!"

"I see that you are one of the stricken," said Gregory. "Shall I
introduce you to my old friend, Mrs. Forrester? She'll no doubt be able
to get you a word with Madame Okraska, if you want to hear her speak."

No, the professor said, he preferred to keep his idols remote and
vaguely blurred with incense. "Who is the young Norse maiden?" he
inquired; "the one you were with. Those singular ladies are accosting
her now."

Karen Woodruff, on the outskirts of the group, had been gazing at her
guardian with a constrained smile in which Gregory detected
self-mastery, and turned her eyes upon