He was greatly disappointed, for the more he considered the affair the more he became convinced that there was something which he might have learned of Geoffrey Huntress’ life and parentage that would have been to his own advantage, and he blamed himself severely for having neglected his opportunity. CHAPTER XII. THE RECEPTION. Mrs. Loring’s reception on Thursday evening proved to be a very brilliant one. It was given nominally in honor of Gladys, but it really was as much for the sake of the daughter of the house, who was the pride and darling of her fond parents’ hearts, and her taste was consulted, her lightest wish gratified, in every arrangement. The elegant mansion was beautifully decorated for the occasion. A platform had been extended fifty feet from the broad south balcony and inclosed like a pavilion for dancing, while one of the finest bands in New York had been secured to discourse sweet music to entice tripping feet, and an elaborate supper had been ordered from Delmonico’s. Mr. and Mrs. Huntress were, of course, among the invited guests, and Geoffrey had also been sent for and pressed to honor the occasion with his presence, for Gladys’ sake. He had sent a telegram in reply, saying that he would come if possible, but at nine o’clock he had not appeared, and Gladys turned eagerly toward the door at every fresh arrival, hoping to see him enter. Mr. Mapleson had not failed to present himself at an early hour, when he immediately constituted himself Gladys’ most devoted attendant, and was so persistent and marked in his attentions that the young girl began to feel a trifle uncomfortable and anxious, lest matters should grow more serious than she desired. “Papa, where do you suppose Geoff is?” she inquired, with a troubled face, as Mr. Huntress came up to her, while Everet Mapleson was doing his utmost to be agreeable. Mr. Huntress had been introduced to the young man earlier in the evening, and had been startled, as everyone else was, by his singular resemblance to the boy whom he had reared, and he had resolved to make some inquiries of him regarding his connections, hoping thus to gain some light upon Geoffrey’s early life. “I do not know, dear,” the gentleman replied to his daughter’s question; “it is surely time that he was here. Possibly something detained him at the last moment, and he could not leave.” “Oh, I hope not; the evening will be spoiled if he does not come,” Gladys cried, in a tone that made the blood surge angrily to Everet Mapleson’s brow, for it told him how little hope there was of his retaining Gladys’ companionship if his fortunate rival should make his appearance.