ts; but
if Mr. Floyd Grandon is a sample of the manhood of the family, there
can be no trouble on that score. Grandon Park is aristocratic,
undeniably elegant, and, so far as he can see, less given to "shoddy"
than many of the new places.

The evening is perfection to those who dance and full of enjoyment to
those who do not. There are card-tables, and a disused conservatory is
transformed into a luxurious smoking-room, from which the mazy winding
German can be seen. There are no wall-flowers, no dissatisfied young
women with scorn-tipped noses, and the promenaders, mostly married
guests, are well paired. Mr. Murray, who has seen society almost
everywhere, is charmed with this.

"What a magnificent woman Madame Lepelletier is," he says to Grandon.
"We have some friends who met her in New York last winter, and I do not
wonder at their enthusiasm. I little thought I should have the
pleasure. There are not many of our countrywomen who could give so
charming an evening."

Grandon is pleased with the praise. His eyes follow the regal woman.

"If I had been in his place I would have made a bid for her," says Mr.
Murray to himself, and he wonders what induced Grandon to marry such a
child as Miss St. Vincent must have been a year ago.

After the supper there is some miscellaneous dancing, a few new steps
the younger portion are desirous of trying, and a waltz that delights
Violet, since she has her husband for a partner. She is full of
pleasurable excitement, and seems alive with some electric power. He
goes back to their first waltz; what is it that has fallen between and
made a little coldness? Why does he study her now with such questioning
eyes, and why is she, with all her brilliance, less tender than a month
or two ago? That quaint little touch of entire dependence has merged
into a peculiar strength, and she seems quite capable of standing
alone. He is strangely roused, piqued as it were.

Violet has been studying a rather ponderous subject for a ball-room,
and she is somewhat elated at having arrived at a conclusion unaided,
except by the trifling suggestion Mr. Latimer has thrown out. It was
Mr. Murray whom Mr. Grandon had some business with awhile ago; she
remembers seeing his name in a letter. His friend went to Europe, and
this is the Mr. Haviland they talk about. She can almost guess the
rest. How odd if Eugene should marry into the new business house, as
his brother married the daughter of a member of the