"Oh, dear me," she cried, in confusion. "The idea of my sitting here talking to a total stranger all this time. You must think me extremely bold." "I am the bold one, madam. It's my first experience, you know, and I think I'm doing pretty well, don't you? By the way, Mrs. Gloame, my name is Gates Garrison, of New York, and my sister is the present Mrs. Gloame." "The pretty young thing with the old Gloame husband?" "Can't say she's pretty, you know. She's my sister." "I passed her in the hall tonight." "The dev--the deuce you did!" cried Gates, coming to his feet in alarm. "Then she must be lying out there in a dead faint." He was starting for the door when she recalled him. "Oh, she did not see me. She merely shivered and asked a servant to close the door. An ill wind seems to be a north wind, so far as ghosts are concerned," she concluded pathetically. "So you are from New York. Dear New York; I haven't been there in a hundred and thirty-five years, I dare say. One in my position rather loses count of the years, you know. I suppose the place is greatly changed. And your lady-love lives there, too, I see." "My lady-love?" demanded Gates, taken back. "Yes, the girl who is so well dressed from her shoulders up," with a tantalising smile. "You mean--this?" he asked, turning a fiery red as he tried to slip the picture of Dolly under a book. "Let me see it, please. Who is she?" He was ashamed, but he held out the picture. A poorly disguised look of disgust crossed the startled features of Mrs. Godfrey Gloame. "She's--a friend of the Colonel's," said Gates promptly. "I should think his wife would do well to be on her guard. This is the first time I ever saw such a costume. In my day a woman would not have dared to do such a thing. Don't you know her?" "Oh, casually," answered he, looking away. "I'm glad to hear that. She is nothing to you, then?" He shook his head in fine disdain. "I don't care much for you men in these days, Mr. Garrison," she said. "You're not complimentary." "When I compare the men of my day--men like Godfrey--with the men of today, I thank Heaven I had the honour to be killed by a gentleman. You don't know how many unhappy wives I meet in the cemetery." "Well, there are no women like you in this day, either. You are beautiful, glorious," he cried, leaning toward her eagerly. She shrank back with a laugh, holding her hands between his face and her own. "How lovely," she sighed. "But keep away, please." "Well, I should say," he exclaimed, his teeth almost chattering, so cold was the air that fanned his face. "I never got such a frost from a woman in all my life." "If my husband had heard your words of flattery he would have created a terrible disturbance. He was fearfully jealous--a perfect devil when the spell came over him." "A devil then and a devil now, I may infer."