now but you ought to
pay some attention to that," he adds, with a touch of solicitude.

"It is very fascinating," she makes answer. "You know we are invited to
Madame Lepelletier's German on Thursday evening."

"I really had forgotten. Why, it is the very thing. I shall go down and
get an invitation for Miss Murray, and bespeak madame's favor. They
will reach here about two, I think, and must have some lunch. Mother
will take charge of that. When Miss Murray is rested you can take her
out driving. We might have some kind of gathering on Friday evening."

Violet wonders why so much is to be done for Miss Murray's
entertainment, and she shrinks a little at having it on her hands. But
Eugene, who has been off on a brief expedition, will return to-morrow,
and he can assist her.

Floyd meanwhile saunters out to the hall and takes his hat, with a
little kindly nod to Violet, who sits by the window with a book. There
has been a quiet week, from various causes, and now the whirl is to
begin again. She has not so much heart in it as youth ought to have or
her eighteen years would rightly warrant, and she turns idly again to
her page. At times some of Bertie Dayre's comments come back to her
with a kind of electric shiver. Is she anything to her husband beyond a
pet and tenderly guarded child like Cecil? a companion for her, rather
than for her husband. Could Madame Lepelletier have been more to him?

Ah, she could, and Violet knows it in the depths of her soul. It is a
bitter and humiliating knowledge. Madame has the exquisite art of
filling her house with attractive people, of harmonizing, of giving
satisfaction, of rendering her guests at home with herself, of charming
grave men and wise scholars, as well as gay young girls. It is true
Violet has married him, but was not Floyd Grandon's regard brought
about by a pique, an opportunity to retaliate the wrong once done to
him? What if there were moments when he regretted it?

He goes down the handsome avenue lined with maples, remembering the old
times with Aunt Marcia and all the changes, and recalling Miss
Stanwood, as he seldom has until Mrs. Dayre talked her over. He can see
the tall, slender, dignified girl, just as he can call up the young
student with his head full of plans, none of which came to pass, none
of which he would care for now. His life has changed and broadened like
the old place, and when this business is fairly off his hands there
will be new paths of d