knew at once that it was in the
hands not only of a comparative stranger, but also of one whose touch
revealed little sympathy, and its protest was so great that the tired
mother took it again, while the beautiful daughter, the cynosure of
all eyes in public, went to her room to finish the "exciting scene" at
her leisure.

But the scene had grown unreal. Its hero was but a shadow, and a
distorted one at that. The book fell from her hand; she again saw
Graydon Muir coming forward to greet her with an easy grace which no
prince in story could surpass, and with an expression in his dark blue
eyes which no woman fails to understand. It assured her that neither
in the old world nor in the new had he seen her equal.

"I wish it could be," she murmured; "I hope it can be; were it not for
that 'if' it should be soon."

Thus, after her own fashion, another girl had designs upon Graydon.

CHAPTER IX

THE MEETING

Graydon had completed his final transactions abroad with more
expedition than he had anticipated, and, having been favored by a
quick passage, had arrived several days sooner than he was expected.
Therefore he decided to accompany his brother to the Catskills
on Saturday, spending the intervening time in business and such
arrangements as would leave him free to remain in the country for a
week or two. The second evening after his arrival again found him in
Miss Wildmere's parlor, and before he left he was given to understand
that Mrs. Wildmere had decided upon the Under-Cliff House also, and
that they would depart on Saturday.

"Then you will be _compagnon de voyage_," said Graydon, with
undisguised pleasure.

Somewhat to Mrs. Wildmere's surprise, her husband quietly acquiesced
in his daughter's wishes, telegraphed for rooms, and desired his wife
to be ready.

She was a quiet, meek little woman, whose life had somehow become
entangled in a sphere which was not in harmony with her nature. Her
beauty had faded early, and she had little force of character with
which to maintain her influence over her husband. His life was amid the
fierce excitements of Wall Street; hers, as far as she had a life,
was a weary effort to keep up appearances and meet the expenses of a
fashionable daughter, on an uncertain and greatly fluctuating income.

Mr. Wildmere informed her that his affairs would keep him in town
until late in the following week, but that, as the house to which she
was going was a quiet family hotel,