indifferently. "She is very
sweet and has lovely eyes, but she is not the kind of person that I
should think would attract him."

"What is it--the 'impossible that always happens'?" quotes Eugene, and
as they come nearer Miss Dayre has the grace to be silent.

Floyd Grandon feels that some enthusiasm is missing, the divine flavor
has gone out of it. Violet is so gentle, so quiet and unstirred by what
only a little while ago carried her captive into an enchanted realm.

"Are you tired?" he asks, presently.

"Oh, no!"

She makes no motion for a release, and they go on. Indeed, it has a
kind of pungent bitter-sweet elusiveness for her, almost as if she
might come up with the lost happiness. "It is all there is, and she
must make herself content," she is saying over and over. She has
dreamed a wild, impossible dream.

Bertie Dayre is fond of conquests in strange lands. Even Violet comes
to be amused at the frank bids she makes for Floyd's favor, but he
seems not to see, to take them with the grave courtesy that is a part
of his usual demeanor. Yet the preference has this effect upon him, to
make him wish that another would try some delicate allurements. He is
in a mood to be won to love, and Violet is fatally blind not to see
that her day has come and take advantage of it.

From this point the summer festivities go straight on. There are guests
at Madame Lepelletier's and a series of charming entertainments. The
Brades have a houseful, and Lucia is followed by a train of adorers;
but what does it all avail, since Mordecai sits stubbornly at the gate?
Violet comes to have a strange, secret sympathy with the girl who
cannot be content and choose among what is offered.

Madame Lepelletier is no less a queen here than she was in the city;
indeed, the glories may be greater, more intense, from being
circumscribed. The Latimers and the Grandons are frequent guests and
meet people whom it is a delight to know; and Lucia decides there is no
such lawn tennis anywhere, no such enchanting little suppers and
dances. Eugene is rather resentful at first, but no one can hold out
long against madame, and she finds a new way to please him,--to offer a
little delicate incense at Violet's shrine. To her there is something
in the way these two young people avoid any pronounced attention. Is it
indicative of a secret understanding between them? If it has reached
that point, she can guess at the subtle temptation for both. Certainly
F