“Well, sweetheart!” he cried gayly, caressing her soft hand before his fingers closed over it. Then his face hardened. “Ah, Mr. Willits! So you, too, must come under the spell of Mr. Horn's voice,” and without waiting for a reply continued as if nothing had interrupted the joy of his greeting. “You should sit down somewhere, my dear Kate--get as near to Richard as you can, so you can watch his face--that's the best part of it. And I should advise you, too, Mr. Willits, to miss none of his words--it will be something you will remember all your life.” Kate looked up in his face with a satisfied smile. She was more than glad that her Uncle George was so gracious to her escort, especially to-night when he was to meet a good many people for the first time. “I'll take the stool, then, dear Uncle George,” she answered with a merry laugh. “Go get it, please, Mr. Willits--the one under the sofa.” Then, with a toss of her head and a coquettish smile at St. George: “What a gadabout you are; do you know I've been three times to see you, and not a soul in your house and the front door wide open, and everything done up in curl papers as if you were going to move away for good and all and never coming back? And do you know that you haven't been near me for a whole week? What do you mean by breaking my heart? Thank you, Mr. Willits; put the stool right here, so I can look up into Mr. Horn's eyes as Uncle George wants me to. I've known the time, sir”--and she arched her brows at St. George--“when you would be delighted to have me look my prettiest at you, but now before I am halfway across the park you slip out of the basement door to avoid me and--No!--no--no apologies--you are just tired of me!” St. George laughed gayly in return, his palms flattened against each other and held out in supplication; but he made no defence. He was studying the couple, his mind on the bearing and manner of the young man toward the woman he was pursuing so relentlessly. He saw that he had completely regained his health, his clear eyes and ruddy skin and the spring with which he moved denoting a man in perfect physical condition. He discovered, too, that he was extremely well dressed and his costume all that it should be--especially the plum-colored coat, which fitted his shoulders to perfection; his linen of the whitest and finest, each ruffle in flutes; the waist-coat embroidered in silk; the pumps of the proper shape and the stockings all that could be desired--except perhaps--and a grim smile crossed his face--that the silk scarf was a shade out of key with the prevailing color of his make-up, particularly his hair; but, then, that was to be expected of a man who had a slight flaw in his ancestry. He wondered if she had noticed it and studied her face for an answer. No! She had not noticed it. In fact there were very many things she was overlooking in these last days of his wooing, he thought to himself.