ving caught sight of
the big, handsome, decisive, carefully groomed man, could look away at
once. If Constance suspected that, ten years before, it might have
been the eyes of shop-girls that followed Spearman with the greatest
interest, she was certain no one could find anything flashy about him
now. What he compelled now was admiration and respect alike for his
good looks and his appearance of personal achievement--a tribute very
different from the tolerance granted those boys brought up as
irresponsible inheritors of privilege like herself.

As they reached the restaurant and passed between the rows of tables,
women looked up at him; oblivious, apparently, to their gaze, he chose
a table a little removed from the others, where servants hurried to
take his order, recognizing one whose time was of importance. She
glanced across at him, when she had settled herself, and the first
little trivialities of their being together were over.

"I took a visitor down to your office this morning," she said.

"Yes," he answered.

Constance was aware that it was only formally that she had taken Alan
Conrad down to confer with her father; since Henry was there, she knew
her father would not act without his agreement, and that whatever
disposition had been made regarding Alan had been made by him. She
wondered what that disposition had been.

"Did you like him, Henry?"

"Like him?" She would have thought that the reply was merely
inattentive; but Henry was never merely that.

"I hoped you would."

He did not answer at once. The waitress brought their order, and he
served her; then, as the waitress moved away, he looked across at
Constance with a long scrutiny.

"You hoped I would!" he repeated, with his slow smile. "Why?"

"He seemed to be in a difficult position and to be bearing himself
well; and mother was horrid to him."

"How was she horrid?"

"About the one thing which, least of all, could be called his
fault--about his relationship to--to Mr. Corvet. But he stood up to
her!"

The lids drew down a little upon Spearman's eyes as he gazed at her.

"You've seen a good deal of him, yesterday and to-day, your father
tells me," he observed.

"Yes." As she ate, she talked, telling him about her first meeting
with Alan and about their conversation of the morning and the queer
awakening in him of those half memories which seemed to connect him in
some way with the lakes. She felt herself flushing now and the