Elaine’s unruffled brow bore no business shades when she drew Hathorn aside for a moment into her boudoir, leaving the luxury-loving Vreeland wandering around spell-bound in a frank admiration of the queen’s jewel-box. For so, the spacious apartment was termed in the circle of “le Petit Trianon.” “This is only my catch-all, Mr. Vreeland,” cried Elaine, as she swept past him. “You must see Lakemere. There you can linger—and—admire.” Harold Vreeland’s silent oath of obedience followed the woman, who fixed her sweetly serious eyes on the agitated Hathorn, in the well-remembered room where their hearts had so often throbbed with quickened beats. “Was it to be a _rapprochement_?” “It is only fair to tell you, Fred,” she simply said, “that I shall have to avoid all excitements this summer. Doctor Hugo Alberg is not at all satisfied with my heart action. And, a tranquil rest at Lakemere is his sole prescription. Now, as I shall probably stay there till October first, I shall leave my speculative stock account to be handled by Judge Endicott, who has my sole power of attorney.” The mystified broker stood aghast at losing his pet account for such a long period. Was she leaving the Street forever? He faltered, “And this means—” “That you must hasten your marriage. There are other things in life beside making money. Of course, I have confided only in you. Potter can not trust himself—and so, I can not trust him with the secrets of any of my financial movements. You are the one young Napoleon of your firm. “So, if you really wish to go abroad, then make Alida a June bride. I shall avoid touching the Street till late in October—and then, when your European tour is over, I shall be able to take up the game of pitch and toss again.” He was conscious that she was keenly watching him. “Of course,” he slowly said, “it gives me all the time I want. I was really concerned about your interests. It is a good plan, and I may be able to get Vreeland to play amateur banker in my place for a few months. Potter and he seem to fancy each other. I’ll talk to Alida. This will probably suit her wishes.” It all looked fair enough, and yet—his bosom was filled with a vague alarm. “I have already selected my present, Fred,” merrily said the Queen of the Street. “Take time by the forelock, and give up these lovely summer months to young love.” The broker’s eyes were gleaming as he said, “Can it be possible that you have gone out of Sugar on the eve of a ten per cent surplus dividend? I heard that inside rumor to-day. You know how dear to me all your interests are.” He now felt that there was that behind the arras which was skillfully veiled from him. For her eyes were shining coldly over the smiling lips. The dark-eyed woman simply said, “Tempt me not. I have promised Doctor Alberg to refrain.