Heriot stayed in New York a week, and then fulfilled his desire to visit Niagara. On his return he called in Fifth Avenue again. He was already beginning to refer to his homeward voyage, and he was still undetermined whether he would propose to Miss Pierways or not. The days slipped by without his arriving at a conclusion; and then one morning he told himself he had gone too far to retreat now--that the step, which was doubtless the most judicious he could take, should be made without delay. He called at the house the same afternoon--for on the next day but one the _Etruria_ sailed--and he found the ladies at home. He sat down, wondering if he would be left alone with Miss Pierways and take his departure engaged to her. But for half an hour there seemed no likelihood of a tête-à-tête. Presently there were more callers and they were shown into another room. Mrs. Van Buren begged him to excuse her. He rose to leave, but was pressed to remain. "I want to talk to you when they've gone," she said; "I haven't half exhausted my list of messages to London." Heriot resumed his seat, and Miss Pierways smiled. "Poor mamma wishes she were going herself, if she told the truth! Now that we're here, it is I who like New York, not she." "We're creatures of custom," he said; "your mother has lived in London too long to accustom herself to America very easily... Of course you'll be over next season?" "Oh yes. Shall you ever come to America again, Sir George?" "I--I hardly know," he answered. "I certainly hope to." "Oh, then, you will! You're your own master." "Is anybody his own master?" "To the extent of travelling to America, many people, I should think!" He remembered with sudden gratification that he had never said a word to her that might not have been spoken before a crowd of listeners. What was there to prevent him withholding the proposal if he liked! "I've no doubt I shall come," he said abstractedly. She looked slightly downcast. It was not the reply that she had hoped to hear. "I shall always owe a debt of gratitude to you and to Mr. and Mrs. Van Buren for making my visit so pleasant to me," he found himself saying next. "My trip has been a delightful experience." She murmured a conventional response, but chagrin began to creep about her heart. Heriot diverged into allusions which advanced the position not at all. They spoke of New York, of England, of the voyage--she perfunctorily, and he with ever-increasing relief. And now he felt that he had been on the verge of the precipice for the last time. He had escaped--and by the intensity of his gratitude he realised how ill-judged had been his action in playing around it.