of enmity between. Of course he could persuade Marcia to
secret meetings and a marriage. Would it not be more of a triumph if
the whole matter were kept a secret?

He draws from Marcia, with the requisite astuteness, and it does not
need much, the state of affairs and her own position at home. She would
be ready enough to change it, that he sees. With a touch of secret
elation he knows he could make this woman worship him like a bond slave
while the bewilderment lasted. He has never been so worshipped. He has
known of several women who would have married him, but it would have
been for a home and a protector. He has not been sufficiently
unfortunate to inspire any one with that profound and tender pity that
women do sometimes give to deformity or accident; he has no particular
gifts or genius to win a heart, he is now quite to middle life and
cannot reasonably expect to grow handsomer. Under any circumstances he
could hardly hope to marry into a family like that of the Grandons, and
though he shall not be friends with a single member, still, it will
gratify his pride, and Floyd Grandon must be more considerate of his
business interests.

All these things run through his mind as he talks to her. She is rather
coquettish and vain and silly,--his eyes are pitilessly clear,--and she
may afford him some amusement when her unreasoning adoration ends. He
sees the fact that he is attracted towards her, moves her curiously.
If he is to take a wife he will not have her cold and selfishly
considerate, but quaff the full cup of adoration at first, even if it
does turn to ashes and dust afterward.

"I wonder," he says, after they have talked away the genial spring
afternoon, "when I shall see you again,--when I may present my little
gift. Your brother and I are _not_ cordial friends. I offered him some
advice in the beginning, as an elder might reasonably give to an
inexperienced person, which he resented quite indignantly, and he
prefers to use his own wisdom. I am not quarrelsome, and so we are
comfortable business compeers, but hardly calling friends, and since
you are in his house I must deny myself the pleasure. Do you not
sometimes go to walk? I know you drive a good deal."

She catches the cue, and her heart bounds.

"I _do_ go out to sketch," she says, with admirable modesty.

"Ah, that would be an enjoyment. _Will_ you allow me to come?"

There is a most flattering entreaty in his tone.

Marcia considers. Violet an