on which she usually sat, and now a
man was there. That was bad enough, but she could in an ordinary case
have passed on, and sought some other place. Now, however, she saw that
that was denied to her; for the intruder was Mr. Victor Heron, and at
the sound of her footstep he looked round, recognized her, and was
already coming toward her, with hat uplifted and courteous bow.

The very rapid moment of time between Minola's first seeing Mr. Heron
and his recognizing her had enabled her quick eyes to perceive that
when he thought himself alone he was anything but the genial and joyous
personage he appeared in company. At first Miss Grey's attention was
withdrawn from her own disappointment by the air of melancholy and even
of utter despondency about the face and figure of the seated man. He
sat leaning forward, his chin supported by one hand, his eyes fixed
moodily on the ground. He seemed to have no manner of concern with air,
or sky, or scene, and his dark-complexioned face gave the impression of
one terribly at odds with fortune. Minola felt almost irresistibly
drawn toward one who seemed unhappy. Her harmless misanthropy went out
at a breath in the presence of any man who appeared to suffer.

But the change which came over Mr. Heron when he saw her can only be
likened to that which would be made by the sudden illumination of a
house that a second before was all dark, and seemingly tenantless. He
came to meet her with sparkling eyes and delighted expression. Mr.
Heron, it should perhaps be explained, considered himself so much older
than Miss Grey, so entirely an experienced, mature, not to say outworn
man, that he did not think of waiting to see whether Miss Grey was
inclined to encourage a renewal of the acquaintance. He considered it
his duty to be polite and friendly to the pretty girl he had met at
Money's, and whom he assumed to be poor, and wanting in friends.

"How fortunate I am to meet you here to-day!" he said. "You remember
me, I hope, Miss Grey? I haven't called you Miss Money this time. Come
now--don't say you have forgotten me."

"I could not say I had forgotten you, for it would not be true, Mr.
Heron."

"Thank you; that was very prettily said, and kindly."

"Was it? I really didn't mean it to be either pretty or kind--only the
truth."

"I see, you go in for being downright, and saying only what you mean. I
am very glad. So do I, and I am very much delighted to meet you here,
Miss Grey. Come, y