“I shall be sorry myself not to see Geoff; he needs the change and recreation, too, for he is working very hard,” responded Mr. Huntress, glancing wistfully toward the door himself. “But you must try to enjoy yourself, all the same, if he does not come. Mr. and Mrs. Loring will be disappointed if their reception does not prove a pleasant one, after all their effort.” Gladys’ glance was bent upon her fan, with which she was nervously toying: her cheeks were flushed, her brow slightly clouded, her lips compressed, and it was evident that she was greatly disturbed. All at once she turned her gaze again toward the door. She gave a sudden start. “Why! there he is now! Oh! I am so glad,” she cried in a joyous tone, her beautiful face growing radiant with undisguised delight, as she saw Geoffrey, looking more handsome and manly than ever, just entering the room. She instantly darted toward him without even thinking to excuse herself to her companions, thus leaving Mr. Huntress and young Mapleson to entertain each other. The latter watched that graceful figure, a lurid fire in his eye, his lips compressed until they were colorless, his heart throbbing with jealous anger. He saw her steal softly up to Geoffrey, who was looking in another direction, and slip one white hand within his arm, while she looked up at him, with a rogueish but happy glance, and addressed some bright words of welcome to him. He saw, too, how Geoffrey’s countenance lighted, how his eyes glowed as he turned to look down upon that fair, upturned face, while the glad smile that wreathed his handsome mouth, told something of the joy which this meeting afforded him also. Everet Mapleson read these signs as plainly as he would have read a printed page, and he knew that the young man loved the fair girl with all the strength of his manly nature, and the knowledge made him grind his teeth in silent rage. But Mr. Huntress spoke to him just then, and he was obliged to turn his glance away from those two central figures, which were now moving out of the room together, and answer him. Mr. Huntress was more and more impressed every moment that there must be kindred blood in the veins of these two young men, and he was resolved to learn the truth. But he was destined to be disappointed, for Everet Mapleson repeated about the same story, with some additions, that he had already told Gladys, and there seemed no possibility of there being any relationship between them. “My father was a colonel in the Confederate Army during the war,” Everet said, in reply to his companion’s query, “and my home, with the exception of a short residence abroad, has always been in the South.” “And is your mother also a Southerner?” Everet smiled, for he knew well enough what these questions meant. “Oh, yes; she and my father were second cousins, and they were married in 1853.” “Ah! in ’53,” remarked Mr. Huntress, reflectively; “and was that Colonel Mapleson’s first marriage?”