seem to have wings. The travellers return, and Mr.
Haviland, back from Europe, comes up to Grandon Park. The gentlemen
retire to the tower and discuss business over cigars, and the result is
an offer for all right and title to the interest of Grandon & Co. left
by James Grandon to his family, and for Mr. St. Vincent's patent. The
last is so liberal that Floyd accepts at once; the rest must be
considered by the parties concerned, but it has the consent and advice
of Floyd Grandon and Mr. Connery.

It is late when the conclave breaks up, but Grandon goes up-stairs with
a lighter heart than he has carried in many a long day. He has hardly
dared to believe in this conclusion, and there will no doubt be some
hard fighting before the matter is ended, but he indulges in a long,
exultant breath of freedom. His life will be his own henceforward.

Passing through Cecil's room, he finds both heads on one pillow. Violet
has waked Cecil with her good-night kiss, and the exigeant child has
prisoned her with two soft arms and drawn her close to her own pink
cheek and rosy, fragrant lips. They seem like a picture, gold and
chestnut hair intermingled, complexion of pearl, and the other of
creamy tints, soft as a sun-ripe peach. She has fallen asleep there, as
she so often does, for youth and health defy carking cares. How lovely
they are! Floyd Grandon suddenly counts himself a happy man, and yet he
does not waken her with the kisses he longs to shower on brow and cheek
and lip. If he did, how brave she would be for the temptation of
to-morrow.

After breakfast Floyd summons his mother and Eugene into the library.
Lucia Brade calls in her pony phaeton and entices Pauline, who is
always ready for a pleasure. Violet flutters about her room, sends
Cecil and Jane out for a constitutional, and then picks up a book.
Summer is on the wane, and the air has a fragrance of ripening grapes,
sun-warmed fruit, and the luxurious sweetness of madeira-blooms. The
voices from the library touch her faintly. Mrs. Grandon's has a high,
aggressive swell now and then, and Eugene's drops to that sort of
sullen key she knows so well in the past. What is taking place? Will
there be some new trouble for Floyd?

She walks down to the summer-house from some half-defined, delicate
motive. After a while the three gentlemen go away, Floyd giving a
questioning glance around. She drops her book on her knee and lapses
into a wondering mood, when a step breaks her r