They parted. Eugenia walked to the window, and for a long time looked out on the gay thoroughfare, now full of carriages going to and returning from the park. Of course, she loved Gerald dearly; that was now beyond a doubt. But what would she have to go through when the engagement was announced? what had she to look forward to as his wife? Must love and worldly misery be synonymous? The current of her thoughts was interrupted by the arrival of another visitor--her brother. James Herbert was a tall young man, faultlessly dressed, and bearing a general look of what is termed high breeding. He bore a likeness to his father, but the likeness was but an outward one. By this time he was a cold cynical man of the world. He had not lived the best of lives, but, being no fool, had gained experience and caution. He was clever enough to study human nature with a view of turning his knowledge to account. Eugenia had some pride of birth; her brother had, or affected, a great deal more. He was by no means unpopular; few men could make themselves more agreeable and fascinating than James Herbert when it was worth his while to be so. In his way he was fond of his sister; certainly proud of her beauty; and she, who knew nothing of his true nature, thought him as perfect as a brother can be. He kissed her, complimented her on her good looks, then sat down and made himself pleasant. She answered his remarks somewhat mechanically, wondering all the time what effect her news would have upon him. She hated things hanging over her head, and had made up her mind to tell him of her intentions, if not to-day the next time she met him. "The lawyers have almost settled your little matter," he said. "It's lucky for you I made up my mind at once; things haven't turned out so well as we expected." She thanked him--not effusively, as if he was doing no more than she had a right to expect. Yet the thought flashed across her that before she took his bounty she was by honor compelled to make him acquainted with what she proposed doing. "By-the-bye, Eugenia," said Herbert, "you know Ralph Norgate?" "Yes. He called a day or two ago. I did not see him." "Well, I expect he'll soon call again. He has been forcing his friendship on me lately. In fact--I'd better tell you--his mind is made up--you are to be the future Lady Norgate. Now you know what to look forward to." Her face flushed. Her troubles were beginning. "But, James," she stammered, "I was just going to tell you--I am already engaged." He raised his eyebrows. To express great surprise was against his creed, and the idea that Eugenia was capable of disgracing herself did not enter his head. "So much the worse for Norgate," he said. "Who is the happy man?" "You will be angry, very angry, I fear." She spoke timidly. His manner told her she had good grounds for fear. His mouth hardened, but he still spoke politely and pleasantly. "My dear girl, don't discount my displeasure; tell me who it is?"