She was quite sure there had never been anybody so good-looking as he in all the world; that there had never been eyes so blue, or with such a twinkle; that nobody had ever had such a wonderful smile or such a cheery laugh; that there was not a man in the whole of London who dressed so well or looked so splendid. As a matter of fact, Christopher was rather a fine looking man, and perfectly well aware of the fact. He had more friends than he knew what to do with, and they all, more or less, spoilt him. He was generally good-tempered, and always good company. He was run after by all the women with marriageable daughters though, to do him justice, so far he evinced very little interest in the opposite sex. He looked now at Marie, and thought what a child she was! He would have been amazed could he have known that beneath her black coat her heart was beating with love for him, deep and sincere. Faithfulness was a failing with Marie, if it can ever be called a failing! There was something doglike in her devotion that made change impossible. Her best friend at school had been unkind to her many times, but Marie's affection had never swerved, and all the tyranny and bullying she had received from Christopher in the past had only deepened her adoration. In her eyes he was perfect. There were many things she wanted to say to him, but she was tongue-tied and shy. It seemed all too soon that they reached home and Christopher handed her over to Miss Chester. Miss Chester took Marie upstairs and kissed her and made much of her. She took it for granted that the girl was broken-hearted at the death of her father. She was a sweet, old-fashioned woman who always took it for granted that people would do the right thing, and she thought it was the right thing for any daughter to grieve at the loss of a parent. "You grow so fast," she said, as she said every time the girl came home. "You will have to put your hair up." Marie turned eagerly. "Oh, auntie! To-night, may I?" Miss Chester did not think it would matter, and so presently a very self-conscious little figure in black crept downstairs through the silent house and into the dining-room, where Christopher was waiting impatiently for his dinner. He turned quickly as Marie and her aunt entered. He was a man who hated being kept waiting a moment, though if it pleased him he broke appointments without the slightest hesitation. Conversation was intermittent during dinner. Naturally there was a gloom over the house. It was only as they were leaving the table that Miss Chester said, smiling faintly: "Do you notice that Marie has grown up, Chris?" "Grown up!" he echoed. He looked at Marie's flushing face. "She has put her hair up," said Miss Chester. Christopher looked away indifferently. "Oh, had she? I didn't notice." The tears started to Marie's eyes. She felt like a disappointed child. CHAPTER II