ose chords were
permeating the mansion's warm atmosphere when the opulent Kolderup
walked in.

"Good!" he said. "She and he are there! A word to my cashier, and then
we can have a little chat."

And he stepped towards his office to arrange the little matter of
Spencer Island, and then dismiss it from his mind. He had only to
realize a few certificates in his portfolio and the acquisition was
settled for. Half-a-dozen lines to his broker--no more. Then William W.
Kolderup devoted himself to another "combination" which was much more to
his taste.

Yes! she and he were in the drawing-room--she, in front of the piano;
he, half reclining on the sofa, listening vaguely to the pearly
arpeggios which escaped from the fingers of the charmer.

"Are you listening?" she said.

"Of course."

"Yes! but do you understand it?"

"Do I understand it, Phina! Never have you played those 'Auld Robin
Gray' variations more superbly."

"But it is not 'Auld Robin Gray,' Godfrey: it is 'Happy Moments.'"

"Oh! ah! yes! I remember!" answered Godfrey, in a tone of indifference
which it was difficult to mistake. The lady raised her two hands, held
them suspended for an instant above the keys as if they were about to
grasp another chord, and then with a half-turn on her music-stool she
remained for a moment looking at the too tranquil Godfrey, whose eyes
did their best to avoid hers.

Phina Hollaney was the goddaughter of William W. Kolderup. An orphan, he
had educated her, and given her the right to consider herself his
daughter, and to love him as her father. She wanted for nothing. She was
young, "handsome in her way" as people say, but undoubtedly fascinating,
a blonde of sixteen with the ideas of a woman much older, as one could
read in the crystal of her blue-black eyes. Of course, we must compare
her to a lily, for all beauties are compared to lilies in the best
American society. She was then a lily, but a lily grafted into an
eglantine. She certainly had plenty of spirit, but she had also plenty
of practical common-sense, a somewhat selfish demeanour, and but little
sympathy with the illusions and dreams so characteristic of her sex and
age.

Her dreams were when she was asleep, not when she was awake. She was not
asleep now, and had no intention of being so.

"Godfrey?" she continued.

"Phina?" answered the young man.

"Where are you now?"

"Near you--in this room--"

"Not near me, Godfrey! Not in this room! But far fa