The other was of a blonde, with bright, laughing blue eyes, yet with a frankness and alertness of expression which won one’s confidence immediately. The first picture was that of an old friend who was now abroad—Mr. Archibald Ray, the young man who had aided her in her search for Dollie. The other was that of Reginald Brookes, the medical student—the one whom her friend, Miss Allyn, had said was just the kind of a man that she should marry. When the girls awoke the next morning they were as happy as larks. There was so much to be talked over in regard to their plans for the future. Miss Allyn went downtown to her work, early, as usual, but she astonished the girls by coming in at noon and bringing a tall, dark gentleman with her. “My _fiancé_, Mr. Colebrook,” she said, with a deep blush. “You must forgive me, girls, but I could not tell you any sooner.” “Oh, how perfectly lovely!” cried Dollie, giving her a hug. “To think that you, too, are in love, and we never even guessed it!” Marion smiled as cordially as possible as she greeted Mr. Colebrook, but there was something about him that repelled her strangely. Once before in her life she had experienced the same sensation, and as she thought of it now she could feel herself becoming awkward and embarrassed. “We are on our way to a matinee,” said Miss Allyn, hurriedly, “but I could not resist the temptation of just bringing him in and introducing him.” “We are ever so glad you did,” said Dollie, so cordially that Marion’s hesitating manner passed unnoticed for the time. Miss Allyn’s every expression spoke of confidence in her lover. She looked at him shyly, but with such trust in her glance that to Marion she hardly seemed like the same little woman. “How she does love him!” cried Dolly, the moment they had gone. Marion still said nothing, but bit her lips savagely. She was wondering why her friend’s _fiancé_ should have pressed her hand so tenderly when he said good-by at parting. “What’s the matter, Marion? You look so glum!” said Dollie, after a minute. She had been dusting the room, while Marion put the dressing case in order. “I don’t like that man, that Mr. Colebrook,” said Marion, slowly. “I hope I may be wrong, but I don’t trust him, Dollie.” Dollie dropped her duster and gave a little cry. “Oh, Marion, don’t say that!” she exclaimed. “You are so keen in your intuitions, and read people so cleverly that I shall begin this moment to tremble for Alma.” “Well, I hope I am mistaken,” was Marion’s answer. “But, nevertheless, I shall keep an eye on him whenever I can, for I have never felt such a dreadful feeling at sight of a person unless there was something about them that wasn’t trustworthy.” “I know,” said Dollie, sadly, “you felt that way about Mr. Lawson. Oh, if you had only acted upon your first impulse with our rascally boarder I might never have fallen into his clutches, Marion.”