l in a passion of tenderness.

"You will spoil her," he says, in a low tone.

If they could go on this way forever! But one morning brings Marcia,
and the same evening Eugene, who is jaunty, handsome, and with a
careless fascination that seems his most liberal inheritance. It is a
very warm September evening, and Violet has put on one of her pretty
white gowns that has a train, and has a knot of purple pansies at her
throat. The elbow sleeves show her pretty dimpled arm and slender
wrist, and her hair is a little blown about as he comes up the steps
and sees her leaning on the balcony rail. What a pretty vision! Have
they guests at the house?

She knows him from his picture and comes forward. He guesses then who
it is, but certainly Laura has not done her half justice.

"Mrs. Floyd Grandon!" bowing with infinite grace.

She smiles at the odd sound of the name she so seldom hears.

"Yes."

He takes the soft, warm hand in his and is tempted to press it to his
lips, but wisely refrains.

His mother has seen this little tableau from the window and comes out.
Even now, if Violet were Eugene's wife, she could forgive her, quite
forgetting that it is not so much her fault or her election.

The delightful harmony comes to a sudden end. That very evening another
spirit reigns, a something intangible that makes Violet shrink into
silence, and Floyd uneasy. Even Gertrude is less social. Marcia has a
curious faculty of making people uncomfortable, of saying wrong things,
of being obtrusive. She quite takes possession of the professor, and he
hardly knows how to understand her small vanities and delusions, and is
glad when the dainty French clock tolls nine, as that is their hour for
working. Cecil has been remaining up, much against her grandmamma's
wishes, who would have an argument every evening on the subject if she
could. So Violet takes the child by the hand and wishes them good
night, the gentlemen go to their study, Marcia flits away, and Eugene
is left with his mother.

"Upon my word," he says, "I had no idea the St. Vincent was such good
form. Floyd has the lucky card everywhere. Is it really true the patent
is a success and that there are fortunes in it?"

"Eugene," his mother begins, severely, "it would have been much better
for you to have stayed at home instead of wasting time and money as you
have done this summer! The lucky card, as you call it, is only taking
advantage of circumstances, and if you are g