For several years nothing occurred either to entice or drive them out of the beaten track; then, all at once, August Huntress conceived a brilliant idea, put it in practical use, secured a patent, and became a rich man. No other children came to share the love and care bestowed upon Gladys, and the hearts of her adopted parents were literally bound up in her. Every possible advantage was lavished upon her, and at the age of twelve years she was a bright, beautiful little maiden with glossy brown hair, lovely dark blue eyes, and regular features, and gave promise of rare beauty when she should reach maturity a few years hence. About this time it appeared necessary for the interests of the house with which Mr. Huntress was connected, that he should remove to New York city. Accordingly, the beginning of Gladys Huntress’ thirteenth year found the family established in a well-furnished mansion in Clinton avenue, one of the pleasantest portions of Brooklyn, while Mr. Huntress’ office was located in Dey street, New York. Here Gladys at once entered the high school, having passed her examinations most creditably, and giving promise of becoming a brilliant scholar. She dearly loved study, and asserted that as soon as she should complete the high school course, she should “make papa send her to Vassar for another four years, to finish her off.” And now there occurred an incident destined to have a wonderful influence on the young girl’s whole future life. One afternoon in May, after school was over for the day, Gladys persuaded her mother to allow their coachman to drive her over to New York to meet and bring her father home to dinner. She had not, as yet, ever been allowed to go out alone in this way; but Mrs. Huntress could not accompany her that day, having an important engagement with some friends; but she knew her driver was perfectly trustworthy, he was very fond of the young girl, and she was sure that no harm could befall her, so the desired permission was given, and the youthful maiden drove off in high glee, and full of importance at being permitted to go by herself to the great metropolis. The Fulton Ferry was safely crossed, and the carriage was rolling slowly up toward Broadway, when Gladys’ attention was arrested by a group of street gamins, who had surrounded a boy whom they appeared to be jeering and tormenting in a cruel manner, and who seemed completely dazed by his position, and greatly distressed by the ill-treatment to which he was subjected. He was a peculiar looking boy, having a slender though perfect form, a delicate, rather aristocratic face, and a finely shaped head, crowned with masses of light, waving hair, in which there were rich tints of gold and brown. He was very pale and his full, large blue eyes had a strange expression in their depths—half wild, half pathetic—which went straight to our young heroine’s heart.