for that, and
secretly in her heart she rejoiced to think that the man she cared for
was of that stamp.

Of course, their little love-affair was a thing of the past. When she
thought of it she felt inclined to laugh, it was so preposterously out
of keeping with her social position. Probably she would never see him
again. She would try not to, because, secretly, she was afraid of
herself. She was afraid that if she saw him again and heard his voice,
if ever again he spoke to her as he had on that island, she would be
tempted to throw herself into his arms, no matter what her position or
how it might wreck her future. She remembered the story Professor Hanson
had told her of a girl of good family marrying an Indian. She recalled
the stories she had seen in the papers of rich girls running away with
their coachmen. She could understand those things now. There was
something in these men, some strange magnetic power, that made girls
love them for themselves, regardless of the disastrous consequences.

Mr. Harmon was listening with rapture to the flattering comments on all
sides, on his daughter's improved appearance, when suddenly the English
butler approached him and said quietly:

"May I speak to you a minute, Sir?"

"Yes, Hawkins, what is it?" answered Mr. Harmon impatiently.

"There's some one down-stairs to see you, Sir."

"Some one to see me?" echoed Mr. Harmon. "Go and tell him to come
up--like all the rest."

The butler did not budge. He had been in service boy and man for over
forty years, and he thought he knew what kind of people were privileged
to enter his master's home as guests.

"Didn't you hear me?" repeated Mr. Harmon. "Go and tell him to come up."

"Excuse me, Sir--it is not a visitor, Sir. It's a person who tried to
come in the front way, shovin' and elbowin' 'is way in along with the
guests as if 'ee was a regular caller, sir. The policeman collared 'im,
thinkin' 'ee was up to no good. You can never tell, sir. Sometimes
they're arter the coats and umbrellas, sir. But the feller said you 'ad
written him, sir, to come 'ere. So the policeman let 'im go. But we
wouldn't let him come in the front way, Sir. We hustled 'im in through
the tradesmen's entrance, and 'ee's down-stairs now. James is lookin'
arter the silver, Sir, so there ain't no danger, there, Sir."

"What's that?" exclaimed Mr. Harmon. "A person of that description says
that I wrote him to come here. He must be an impostor. Throw him