sed forward. Ethel saw her approach, and went to meet her. Suddenly
her steps were arrested. An extraordinary thing was going to happen. The
Apollo of her dreams, the singer of the Holland House pavement, was at
Mrs. Rawdon's side, was talking to her, was evidently a familiar friend.
She was going to meet him, to speak to him at last. She would hear his
name in a few moments; all that she had hoped and believed was coming
true. And the clear, resonant voice of Lydia Rawdon was like music in
her ears as she said, with an air of triumph she could not hide:

"Miss Rawdon, I want you to know my son, Mr. John Thomas Rawdon, and
also John Thomas's cousin, Mr. Tyrrel Rawdon, of the United States."
Then Mr. Tyrrel Rawdon looked into Ethel's face, and in that marvelous
meeting of their eyes, swift as the firing of a gun, their pupils
dilated and flashed with recognition, and the blood rushed crimson
over both faces. She gave the gentlemen flowers, and listened to Mrs.
Rawdon's chatter, and said in reply she knew not what. A swift and
exquisite excitement had followed her surprise. Feelings she could
not voice were beating at her lips, and yet she knew that without her
conscious will she had expressed her astonishment and pleasure. It
was, indeed, doubtful whether any after speech or explanation would as
clearly satisfy both hearts as did that momentary flash from soul to
soul of mutual remembrance and interest.

"I thought I'd give you a surprise," said Mrs. Rawdon delightedly. "You
didn't know the Tyrrel-Rawdons had a branch in America, did you? We are
a bit proud of them, I can tell you that."

And, indeed, the motherly lady had some reason. John Thomas was a
handsome youth of symmetrical bone and flesh and well-developed muscle.
He had clear, steady, humorous eyes; a manner frank and independent,
not to be put upon; and yet Ethel divined, though she could not have
declared, the "want" in his appearance--that all-overish grace and
elasticity which comes only from the development of the brain and
nervous system. His face was also marred by the seal of commonness which
trade impresses on so many men, the result of the subjection of the
intellect to the will, and of the impossibility of grasping things
except as they relate to self. In this respect the American cousin was
his antipodes. His whole body had a psychical expression--slim,
elastic, alert. Over his bright gray eyes the eyelids drew themselves
horizontally, showing hi