reason for disputing,
a settlement was quickly arrived at. Then, as Mostyn's return was
uncertain, an attorney's messenger, properly accredited, was sent to
America to procure his signatures. Allowing for unforeseen delays, the
perfected papers of release might certainly be on hand by the fifteenth
of July, and it was proposed on the first of August to give a dinner
and dance in return for the numerous courtesies the American Rawdons had
received.

As this date approached Ruth and Ethel began to think of a visit to
London. They wanted new gowns and many other pretty things, and why not
go to London for them? The journey was but a few hours, and two or three
days' shopping in Regent Street and Piccadilly would be delightful. "We
will make out a list of all we need this afternoon," said Ruth, "and
we might as well go to-morrow morning as later," and at this moment
a servant entered with the mail. Ethel lifted her letter with an
exclamation. "It is from Dora," she said, and her voice had a tone of
annoyance in it. "Dora is in London, at the Savoy. She wants to see me
very much."

"I am so sorry. We have been so happy."

"I don't think she will interfere much, Ruth."

"My dears," said Judge Rawdon, "I have a letter from Fred Mostyn. He is
coming home. He will be in London in a day or two."

"Why is he coming, father?"

"He says he has a proposal to make about the Manor. I wish he were not
coming. No one wants his proposal." Then the breakfast-table, which had
been so gay, became silent and depressed, and presently the Judge went
away without exhibiting further interest in the London journey.

"I do wish Dora would let us alone," said Ruth. "She always brings
disappointment or worry of some kind. And I wonder what is the meaning
of this unexpected London visit. I thought she was in Holland."

"She said in her last letter that London would be impossible before
August."

"Is it an appointment--or a coincidence?"

And Ethel, lifting her shoulders sarcastically, as if in hostile
surrender to the inevitable, answered:

"It is a fatality!"

CHAPTER VIII

THREE days afterward Ethel called on Dora Stanhope at the Savoy. She
found her alone, and she had evidently been crying. Indeed, she
frankly admitted the fact, declaring that she had been "so bored and so
homesick, that she relieved she had cried her beauty away." She glanced
at Ethel's radiant face and neat fresh toilet with envy, and added, "I
am so glad to