ther, dear! So here you are really! You know, I've been thinking of
you all morning. I wasn't sure whether you would come to-day, you
change about so. I think I even dreamed of you last night."

Her skirts, still worn just below the shoe-tops, had the richness of
scraping silk then fashionable. She was also guilty of using a faint
perfume of some kind.

Cowperwood could see that Mrs. Carter, despite a certain nervousness
due to the girl's superior individuality and his presence, was very
proud of her. Berenice, he also saw quickly, was measuring him out of
the tail of her eye--a single sweeping glance which she vouchsafed from
beneath her long lashes sufficing; but she gathered quite accurately
the totality of Cowperwood's age, force, grace, wealth, and worldly
ability. Without hesitation she classed him as a man of power in some
field, possibly finance, one of the numerous able men whom her mother
seemed to know. She always wondered about her mother. His large gray
eyes, that searched her with lightning accuracy, appealed to her as
pleasant, able eyes. She knew on the instant, young as she was, that
he liked women, and that probably he would think her charming; but as
for giving him additional attention it was outside her code. She
preferred to be interested in her dear mother exclusively.

"Berenice," observed Mrs. Carter, airily, "let me introduce Mr.
Cowperwood."

Berenice turned, and for the fraction of a second leveled a frank and
yet condescending glance from wells of what Cowperwood considered to be
indigo blue.

"Your mother has spoken of you from time to time," he said, pleasantly.

She withdrew a cool, thin hand as limp and soft as wax, and turned to
her mother again without comment, and yet without the least
embarrassment. Cowperwood seemed in no way important to her.

"What would you say, dear," pursued Mrs. Carter, after a brief exchange
of commonplaces, "if I were to spend next winter in New York?"

"It would be charming if I could live at home. I'm sick of this silly
boarding-school."

"Why, Berenice! I thought you liked it."

"I hate it, but only because it's so dull. The girls here are so
silly."

Mrs. Carter lifted her eyebrows as much as to say to her escort, "Now
what do you think?" Cowperwood stood solemnly by. It was not for him
to make a suggestion at present. He could see that for some
reason--probably because of her disordered life--Mrs. Carter was
playing a game of