ophisticated proclivities and training of the owner.

In the interval of awkward silence, Briscoe remained motionless in his
easy chair, a rueful reflectiveness on his genial face incongruous with
its habitual expression. When a sudden disconcerted intentness developed
upon it, Bayne, every instinct on the alert, took instant heed of the
change. The obvious accession of dismay betokened the increasing
acuteness of the crisis, and Briscoe's attitude, as of helpless
paralysis, stricken as it were into stone as he gazed toward the door,
heralded an approach.

There were light footfalls on the veranda, a sudden shadow at the door.
The next moment two ladies were entering, their hands full of autumn
leaves, trophies of their long walk. Bayne, summoning to his aid all the
conservative influences of pride and self-respect, was able to maintain
an aspect of grave composure as, fully warned, he turned to meet them.
Nevertheless, the element of surprise to the new-comers rendered it an
awkward moment to all the group. Mrs. Briscoe, considerably in advance
of her guest, paled at the sight of him, and, silent and visibly
shocked, paused as abruptly as if she beheld a ghost. It was a most
uncharacteristic reception, for she was of a gracious and engaging
personality and a stately type of beauty. She was tall and graceful,
about thirty years of age, in full bloom, so to speak, extremely fair,
the delicacy of her complexion enhanced by the contrast with her dark
hair worn _en pompadour_. Her gown of dark red cloth, elaborately
braided and with narrow borders of otter fur, had a rich depth of color
which accorded with her sumptuous endowments.

The role of cordial hostess she was wont to play with especial
acceptability, but now she had lost its every line, its most trivial
patter. She said not one word as Bayne clasped her hand with the
conventional greeting, but only looked at him with her hazel eyes at once
remonstrant, pleading, compassionate.

The moment of vantage, short as it was, afforded by the precedence of her
hostess in the matter of salutation, gave Mrs. Royston the opportunity to
catch her breath and find her voice. She had not seen this man since,
five years ago, he had left her home her expectant bridegroom. But beyond
a fluctuating flush in her fair cheek, a dilation of her blue eyes, a
flutter of those eyelids which he had always esteemed a special point of
her beauty, being so smooth, so full, so darkly lashed, sh