ays admired Harold Mainwaring. I would
like to meet such a man as he."

"Why, I should say there was a romance in progress at present in
the Mainwaring family," said Mr. Whitney, smiling.

"What! Hugh and Edith Thornton?" She laughed again, a wonderfully
musical, rippling laugh, the attorney thought. "Oh, there is no
more romance there than there is in that marble," and she pointed
to a beautiful Cupid and Psyche embracing each other in the centre
of a mass of brilliant geraniums and coleas. "They have been
engaged ever since their days of long dresses and highchairs,--another
of Ralph Mainwaring's schemes! You know Edith is Hugh's
cousin, an only child, and her father is immensely rich! Oh, no; if
I ever have a romance of my own, it must spring right up
spontaneously, and grow in spite of all opposition. Not one of the
sort that has been fostered in a hot-house until its life is nearly
stifled out of it."

Mr. Whitney glanced in admiration at the fair English face beside
him glowing with physical and intellectual beauty. Then a moment
later, as they passed down the long hall in response to the summons
to dinner, and he caught a glimpse, in one of the mirrors, of a
tolerably good-looking, professional gentleman of nearly forty, he
wondered why he suddenly felt so much older than ever before.

Miss Carleton was seated beside him at dinner, while nearly opposite
was Harry Scott, conversing with young Mainwaring. He was quietly
but elegantly dressed, and his fine physique and noble bearing, as
well as the striking beauty of his dark face, seemed more marked
than usual. Mr. Whitney watched the young secretary narrowly.
Something in the play of his features seemed half familiar, and yet
gave him a strange sense of pain, but why, he could not determine.

"Mr. Whitney," said Miss Carleton, in a low tone, "did you ever
observe a resemblance at times between Mr. Scott and your friend,
Mr. Hugh Mainwaring?"

The attorney looked up in surprise. "Why, no, Miss Carleton, I
would not think a resemblance possible. Mr. Scott is much darker
and his features are altogether different."

"Oh, I did not refer to any resemblance of feature or complexion,
but his manner, and sometimes his expression, strikes me as very
similar. I suppose because he was associated with him so much,
you know."

Mr. Whitney's eyes again wandered to the face of the secretary. He
started involuntarily. "By George!" he ejaculated, mentally,