But, meantime, I have a strange, irrepressible longing to see more of this motherless girl, whose life has been so sadly blighted at the outset. Mr. Tressalia, I think _I_ would like to see a little of Saratoga myself, and I feel confident that Miss Editha would not feel sorry to see her friend again.” “Do you think so?” he asked, eagerly. “I am sure of it. This little note breathes of a strong regret that she was obliged to go away at all. I am afraid she will wilt again if she cannot be under genial influences.” Madam’s face was full of a strange, wistful tenderness as she spoke, and Paul Tressalia wondered why she should feel so strangely drawn toward Editha. It was a matter of wonder to all. “Does that mean that you think we had better follow Mr. Dalton and his daughter to Saratoga?” he asked. “Yes; but first I must go to the White Mountains, since I proposed the trip, and others would be disappointed if it was given up. I must postpone my trip to Saratoga until my return,” returned madam, with a look which plainly said she wished she had not planned the trip to the mountains at all. “I wonder——” Paul began, and then stopped. “Well? And so do I,” laughed his companion, after waiting a moment and he did not go on. “I was pondering the question whether it is best for me to go to Saratoga at all,” he said, gravely. “And why not?” “If Editha is really on the gain, it would perhaps be better for me to return at once to England and not see her again.” “Does it hurt you so, my friend?” asked madam, pityingly. “You must conquer that, if possible, though I myself know how hard a thing that is to do, and it seems cold advice to give. But it would give me pleasure if you would accompany us to Saratoga. We know nothing about the ins and outs of the place, and it would really be a comfort to have a pilot.” “Then that settles the matter. I will go with you,” he said. “Not if it is to interfere with any necessary business,” madam said, hastily, yet decidedly. “It will not. I have no business—I have no aim in life now,” he added, bitterly. “Come with us to the mountains,” Madam Sylvester said, with a sudden thought. “You need a little judicious comforting as well as Miss Dalton, and I believe I am just the one to take you in hand. Will you come?” “Yes, thanks; I cannot resist. I believe you charm every one with whom you come in contact,” he answered, laughing, and glad to be invited. “That is pleasant to hear. We will make our trip as short as possible, and then fly to the far-famed springs of Saratoga, to drink of their mystic waters.” And so it was arranged, and Paul Tressalia was drawn irresistibly to do this woman’s bidding, yet wondering at himself for doing it, and more and more surprised to see how Editha had fascinated her.