Mrs. Varrick rose from her seat and looked haughtily at her son, her heart beating with great, stifling throbs. In all the years of their lives they had never before exchanged one cross word with each other, and in that moment she hated, with all the strength of her soul, the girl who had sown discord between them, and she wished that Heaven had stricken the girl dead ere her son had looked upon her face. "I am sure it is nothing to you or to me whom Jessie Bain chooses to fall in love with," she answered, coldly. "You forget yourself in reproaching _me_ with it, my son," and with these words she swept from the room. The door had barely closed after her ere Hubert threw himself down into the nearest chair, covering his face with his hands. He had loved Gerelda Northrup as few men love in a life-time, but with the belief that she had eloped with another, growing up in his heart, he had been able to stifle that love, root it from his heart, blossom and branch, with an iron will, until at last he knew if he came face to face with Gerelda she would never again have the power to thrill his heart with the same passion. And, sitting there, he was face to face with the truth--that his heart, in all its loneliness, had gone out to Jessie Bain in the rebound, and he knew that life would never be the same to him if she were to prefer another to himself. He rang the bell sharply, and in response to the summons one of the servants soon appeared. "Send the architect--the young man whom you will find in the new western wing of the house--to me at once. Tell him to bring his drawings with him." Hubert Varrick paced nervously up and down the library until the young man entered the room. "You sent for me, Mr. Varrick," he said, with a smile on his frank, handsome face, "and I made haste to come to you." "I wish to inspect your drawings," he said, tersely, as he waved the young man to a seat. Frank Moray laid them down upon the table. There was something in Varrick's manner that startled him, for he had always been courteous and pleasant to him before. Varrick ran his eyes critically over the pieces of card-board, the frown on his face deepening. "I hope the plans meet your approval, sir," said the young man, very respectfully. "I showed them from day to day, as I progressed, to Miss Jessie Bain, and she seemed very much interested in them." Those words were fatal to the young man's cause. With an angry gesture, Varrick threw the drawings down upon the table. "Your plans do not please me at all," he returned. "Stop right where you are. Return to your firm at once and tell them to send me another man, an older man, one with more experience--one who can spend more time at his business and less time in chattering. Your sketches are miserably drawn!" Frank Moray had risen to his feet, his face white as death.