there I was always a private pupil."

"You astonish me," said Grant; "you seemed like an old hand at it."

"Perhaps I did, or rather as if I didn't think anything of it
myself,--and that no doubt is why the audience didn't think anything of
it either."

So she HAD noticed her cold reception, and yet there was not the
slightest trace of disappointment, regret, or wounded vanity in her
tone or manner. "You must take me to the refreshment room now," she
said pleasantly, "and help me to look after the young ladies who are my
guests. I'm afraid there are still more speeches to come, and father and
Mr. Pilsbury are looking as if they confidently expected something more
would be 'expected' of them."

Grant at once threw himself into the task assigned to him, with his
natural gallantry and a certain captivating playfulness which he still
retained. Perhaps he was the more anxious to please in order that his
companion might share some of his popularity, for it was undeniable that
Miss Harcourt still seemed to excite only a constrained politeness
among those with whom she courteously mingled. And this was still more
distinctly marked by the contrast of a later incident.

For some moments the sound of laughter and greeting had risen near the
door of the refreshment room that opened upon the central hall, and
there was a perceptible movement of the crowd--particularly of youthful
male Tasajara--in that direction. It was evident that it announced the
unexpected arrival of some popular resident. Attracted like the others,
Grant turned and saw the company making way for the smiling, easy,
half-saucy, half-complacent entry of a handsomely dressed young girl. As
she turned from time to time to recognize with rallying familiarity or
charming impertinence some of her admirers, there was that in her
tone and gesture which instantly recalled to him the past. It was
unmistakably Euphemia! His eyes instinctively sought Clementina's. She
was gazing at him with such a grave, penetrating look,--half doubting,
half wistful,--a look so unlike her usual unruffled calm that he felt
strangely stirred. But the next moment, when she rejoined him, the look
had entirely gone. "You have not seen my sister since you were at Sidon,
I believe?" she said quietly. "She would be sorry to miss you." But
Euphemia and her train were already passing them on the opposite side of
the long table. She had evidently recognized Grant, yet the two sisters
were looking