In spite of herself, Margaret was touched by this. A hundred times, since she had known him, she had seen Louis Gaston give evidence of an exquisite feeling of deference to women, and she could readily believe that he had been influenced on this occasion partly by consideration for herself; and while she resented the means used she did justice to the motive. “It is much better that we have talked of this,” she said presently. “I do thank you for having that feeling about me. You could not know it was not needed. I will try to forget it all.” “But you will not succeed,” he said; “your tone convinces me of that. I wish we understood each other better, Miss Trevennon, and I do not yet give up the hope that in time we may.” He drew out his watch and looked at it, saying in tones that showed him to be in a serious mood: “I have an appointment to see a man on business, and I must go and keep it. I shall probably be late coming in, and shall hardly see you again, so I’ll say good-night.” As he spoke, he turned and went into the hall, and a moment later Margaret heard the front door close behind him. As she slowly mounted the stairs to her room, she remembered that he had not asked her again to shake hands with him, in token of a re-establishment of the old relationship between them, and, on the whole, she did not regret it. It was as well that he should know that he was not restored to his former place in her regard. Her faith in him had been terribly shaken, and it seemed impossible he could ever be to her again the man she had once thought him. CHAPTER IX. When Mrs. Gaston and Miss Trevennon were driving along the avenue next morning, the former said abruptly, “Why didn’t you tell me of your cousin’s visit?” “Oh, I didn’t see you when you came in, you know,” answered Margaret evasively. “Who told you?” “Louis: and I gathered from certain indications that there had been something unpleasant in this meeting. I didn’t ask him to explain it to me, and I don’t ask you. I hate explanations. I have always foreseen that a certain amount of clashing was inevitable between you and Louis. You are both very well in your ways, but your ways are very different and not very reconcilable. I am very sorry anything of the sort happened; but I don’t let it prey upon my mind, and I hope you will not either.” “Oh no,” said Margaret; “it was nothing very important. Mr. Gaston was rude to Alan when he first came in, but he atoned for it as far as he could afterward.” At this moment a handsome drag containing two gentlemen and a liveried servant was seen approaching, and, as it came up to them, one of the gentlemen recognized Margaret with a bow and a smile. “There’s Alan now!” said Margaret. “I wonder who the gentleman is, who is driving.”