hen would have been thankful if he could have carried away that
picture as a last impression, but as the car moved slowly from the door,
she stepped back into the shadow of the porch, and he caught a last
glimpse of her standing there, gazing after him with a grave, fixed
gaze.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"I WILL BE TRUE."

Stephen Glynn's dreaded interview with his nephew was a typical example
of the unexpectedness of events, for instead of the indignant opposition
which he had feared, his proposition was listened to in silence, and
accepted with an alacrity, which was almost more disconcerting than
revolt.

In truth Stanor saw in the proposal an escape from what had proved a
disappointing and humiliating position. His pride had been hurt by the
attitude of Pixie's relatives, and he could not imagine himself visiting
at their houses with any degree of enjoyment. A dragging engagement in
England would therefore be a trying experience to all concerned, and it
seemed a very good way out of the difficulty to pass the time of waiting
abroad.

From his own point of view, moreover, he was relieved not to begin his
business life in London, where so far he had been free to pursue his
pleasures only. To be cooped up in a dull city office, while but a mile
or two away his friends were taking part in the social functions of the
season, would be an exasperating experience, whereas in New York he
would be troubled by no such comparisons, but would find much to enjoy
in the novelty of his surroundings. Two years would soon pass, and at
the end he would come home to an assured position, marry Pixie, and live
happily ever after.

He sat gazing thoughtfully into space, the fingers of his right hand
slowly stroking his chin, a picture of handsome, young manhood, while
the deep blue eyes of Stephen Glynn watched him intently from across the
room. A long minute of silence; then the two pairs of eyes met, and
Stanor found himself flushing with a discomfort as acute as mysterious.
He straightened himself, and put a hasty question--

"What does Pixie say?"

"Miss O'Shaughnessy was--" Stephen hesitated over the word--"she seemed
to think that my wishes should have weight. She will consent to
anything that seems for your good. She said that two years would
quickly pass."

Stanor frowned. The thought had passed through his own brain, but no
man could approve of such sentiments on the part of a _fiancee_. There
was an edge of ir