led. This vibrant stranger had an air about him and an
irresistible magnetism. It was flattering to receive marked attentions
from a person of his age and consequence--the girl felt an access of
importance--and the tone of his voice, his every look, assured her that
she had indeed challenged his deepest interest. She colored faintly as
he ran on:

"So you're a partner of Henry Nelson's! He doesn't deserve it and--our
friendship ceases. I shall now hate him. Yes, henceforth he and I shall
be enemies."

"I love to be flattered, but please don't become Henry's enemy. The
most dreadful things happen to them."

"He pretends to be a friend, but in reality he is a suitor--a
detestable suitor--and the ties of business bind you closer! I see it
all. I--I consider it abominable." Gray's tone was as gay as his
demeanor had been thus far, nevertheless he was probing deliberately,
and the result appeared to verify his earlier suspicions. Calm as he
had appeared to be during that interview in the bank, in reality he had
been, and still was, in a state of intense nervous excitement; his mind
was galloping; the effect of that clash had been to rouse in him a keen
exaltation and a sense of resistless power. If Henry Nelson was
seriously interested in this girl, he reasoned, here then was another
weapon ready shaped--a rapier aimed at his enemy's breast--and all he
had to do was grasp it. That promised to be a pleasant undertaking. Nor
had he any doubt of success, for Barbara Parker had aroused his liking
so promptly that reason--and experience--told him they must be in close
sentimental accord. Even had she proven less responsive, he would still
have been confident of himself, for few women remained long indifferent
to his zeal, once he deliberately set about winning them. To build upon
that subtle, involuntary attraction, therefore, and to profit by it,
appeared advisable, nay, necessary, for henceforth all must be grist
that came to his mill. In view of his declaration of war, he could
afford to scorn no advantage, however direct or indirect its bearing.

"Tell me about the Briskows," Barbara demanded.

"Of course! I'm dying to do so, but"--Gray looked at his watch--"even
the good must lunch. No doubt you abhor the public eating places, but,
alas--"

"I do. So does everybody who tries them. But our cook has been
speculating in shares, and yesterday she stalked majestically from the
kitchen. She was a wretched cook, anyhow; but