adical may be."

"Well, Mr. Sheppard, we shall not be the less good friends I hope,"
Heron said cheerily. "I can't be expected to wish that the best man may
win, for that would be to wish failure for myself; but I wish the better
cause may win, and in that you will join me. Good morning, Miss Grey!"

The room seemed to grow very chilly to Minola when his bright smile and
sweet courteous tones were withdrawn and she was left with her old
lover.

There was not much in Sheppard's appearance to win her back to any
interest in him. He did not compare advantageously with Victor Heron.
When Heron left the room, the light seemed to have gone out; Heron was
so fresh, so free, so sweet, and yet so strong, full of youth, and
spirit, and manhood--a natural gentleman without the insipidity of the
manners of society. Poor Augustus Sheppard was formal, constrained, and
prosaic; he had not even the dignity of austerity. He was not
self-sufficing: he was only self-sufficient. As he stood there he was
awkward, and almost cowed. He seemed as if he were afraid of the girl,
and Minola was woman enough to be angry with him because he seemed
afraid of her. He was handsome, but in that commonplace sort of way
which in a woman's eye is often worse than being ugly. Minola felt
almost pitiless toward him, although the girl's whole nature was usually
full of pity, for, as has already been said, she did not believe in his
affection, and thought him a thorough sham. He stood awkwardly there,
and she would not relieve him from his embarrassment by saying a word.

"Well, Miss Grey," he began at last, "I suppose you hardly expected to
see me."

"I did not know you were in town, Mr. Sheppard."

"I fear I am not very welcome," he said, with an uncomfortable smile;
"but your mother particularly wished me to see you."

"My mother, Mr. Sheppard?" Minola grew red with pain and anger.

"I mean your stepmother, of course--the wife of your father."

"Once the wife of my father; now the wife of somebody else."

"Well, well, at all events the person who might be naturally supposed to
have the best claim to some authority--or influence--influence let us
say--over you."

"Has Mrs. Saulsbury sent you to say that she thinks she ought to have
some influence over me?"

"Oh, no," he answered with that gentle deprecation of anger which is
usually such fuel to anger's fire. "Mrs. Saulsbury has given up any idea
of the kind long since--quite long since, I ass