could he have helped it? And he sees in this
Miss Murray's coming an opportunity to be more devoted to her, without
exposing her to any unfavorable comments.

Violet wonders how he could get through with his toilet so rapidly when
he stands in the doorway of the summer-house, fresh, brilliant, his
lithe figure the embodiment of manly grace, his dark eyes bright,
imperious, and winning, and his smile captivating. A curious light goes
over Miss Murray's face at the introduction. Evidently she is surprised
and satisfied.

They drop into a gay little chat. The sun comes round with such intense
heat that they are driven up to the shady balcony and the hammocks.
Violet is in a new and enchanting mood; she is of their kind to-day,
bright with youth and enjoyment. She even surprises herself. She hardly
knew there was so much merry audacity in her nature, such a capability
of riotous delight.

The gentlemen do not return to lunch.

"I suppose Miss Murray's father is one of the literary sort," says
Eugene, afterward. "Nothing of the bluestocking about her, though.
Isn't she jolly?"

"I am so glad you like her," Violet answers. "I don't know what Mr.
Murray is, only he doesn't seem like a--that kind, you know, but I
suppose he must be," she settles in her own mind. "They are very
wealthy."

"Birds of a feather," laughs Eugene, adverting to Floyd.

The afternoon is a good deal taken up with dresses; Miss Murray has
half a dozen that are simple yet extremely elegant. She finally selects
a lace robe made over pale pink silk, and she looks bewitching in it.

Eugene is rather puzzled about Mr. Murray at first, but before dinner
is ended he learns that the bent of the man's mind is business. What
new project has Floyd on hand? There has been some talk of reopening
the quarry; at least Floyd has had offers. Or does he mean to build up
the remainder of Grandon Park?

Violet is in a soft white silk, with some remarkable pearls and opals
that Floyd has had set for her, and a few magnificent roses. Her color
and vivacity have come back to her, and as Floyd watches her, a curious
remembrance seems to dawn on him. Has she not been well of late that
she has seemed so grave and silent, so pale and sad-eyed? Ever since
his return she has appeared changed, but now he has his own little
fairy back again. What charm in Miss Murray has worked the
transformation? Is it kindred youth and sympathy and pleasure?

Miss Murray and Eugene have