declared for him, also. Other men had
wooed and pleaded, but she had ever mentally compared them with
Graydon, and they had appeared insignificant. She had felt sure for a
long time that he would eventually be at her feet, and she had never
decided to refuse him. Now she was ready to accept but for this
ominous "if," which her father had emphasized. She could not think of
marrying him should he become a poor man.

She neither liked nor disliked Mr. Arnault. He was a man of the world,
reported wealthy, established in a large but not very conservative
business. He had the name of being a little fast and speculative, but
she was accustomed to that style of man. He was an open suitor who
would take no rebuff, and had laughingly told her so. After his
refusal, instead of going away in despondency or in a half-tragic
mood, he had good-naturedly declared his intentions, and spent the
remainder of the evening in such lively chat that she had been pleased
and amused by his tactics. Since that time he had made himself useful,
was always ready to be an escort with a liberal purse, and never
annoyed her with sentiment. She understood him, and he was aware that
she did. He took his chances for the future, and was always on hand
to avail himself of any mood or emergency which he could turn to
his advantage. In various unimportant ways he was of service to Mr.
Wildmere, but hoped more from the broker's embarrassments than from
the girl's heart.

"I might do worse," muttered the beauty--"I might do worse. If it were
not for Graydon Muir, I'd decide the question at once."

The door-bell rang, and Graydon was announced. Even her experienced
nerves had a glad tingle of excitement, she was so genuinely pleased
to see him. And well she might be, for he was a man to light any
woman's eyes with admiration. If something of his youth had passed,
his face had gained a rich compensation in the strong lines of
manhood, and his manner a courtly dignity from long contact with the
best elements of life. One saw that he knew the world, but had not
been spoiled by it. That he had not become cynical was proved by his
greeting of Miss Wildmere. He was capable of hoping that her continued
freedom, in spite of her remarkable beauty, might be explained on the
ground of a latent regard for him, which had kept her ready for his
suit after an absence so unexpectedly prolonged. Through a friend he
had, from time to time, been informed about her; and there w