on
the tables ready to be lit, for neither furnace nor gas was to be found
here. The west suite of rooms spoken of in the letter were the last
visited. A long corridor, lit by an oriel window, through which the
rainy twilight stole eerily enough, led to a baize door. The baize door
opened into a shorter corridor, terminated by a second door, the upper
half of glass. This was the door of a study, simply furnished, the walls
lined with book-shelves, surmounted by busts. Adjoining was a bathroom,
adjoining that a bedroom. Fires burned in all, and the curtained windows
commanded a wide western prospect of flower-garden, waving trees,
spreading fields, and the great St. Lawrence melting into the low
western sky.

"Mr. Richards ought to be very comfortable here," thought Grace. "It is
rather strange Ogden did not speak of him."

She went down stairs again and back to the dining-room. Eeny was there,
standing before the fire, her light shape and delicate face looking
fragile in the red fire-light.

"Oh, Grace," said she, "I have just sent Babette in search of you. There
is a visitor in the parlour for you."

"For me?"

"Yes, a gentleman; young, and rather handsome. I asked him who I should
say wished to see you, and--what do you think?--he would not tell."

"No! What did he say?"

"Told me to mention to Miss Grace Danton that a friend wished to see
her. Mysterious, is it not?"

"Who can it be?" said Grace, thoughtfully. "What does this mysterious
gentleman look like, Eeny?"

"Very tall," said Eeny, "and very stately, with brown hair, and beard
and mustache--a splendid mustache, Grace! and beautiful, bright brown
eyes, something like yours. Very good-looking, very polite, and with the
smile of an angel. There you have him."

"I am as much at a loss as ever," said Grace, leaving the dining-room.
"This is destined to be an evening of arrivals I think."

She ran upstairs for the second time, and opened the parlour door. A
gentleman before the fire, in the seat Eeny had vacated, arose at her
entrance. Grace stood still an instant, doubt, amaze, delight,
alternately in her face; then with a cry of "Frank!" she sprang forward,
and was caught in the tall stranger's arms.

"I thought you would recognize me in spite of the whiskers," said the
stranger. "Here, stand off and let me look at you; let me see the
changes six years have wrought in my sister Grace."

He held her out at arm's length, and surveyed her smilingly.