“I’ve had a delightful time; got back this morning; landed from the train at the Centennial; spent the day there; and, by the way, I met a young thing out there this afternoon who is wonderfully like Floy. Took her for her at first sight, and made a fool of myself by rushing up and offering to shake hands. Have been cogitating on the subject, and come to the conclusion that it may be a younger sister--half-sister, you know--supposing the mother lived and married again. What do you think?” “Floy _has_ a sister--two of them, in fact,” returned the son dryly, “and I think it altogether probable that the girl you speak of was one of them.” “You don’t say!” cried Mr. Alden in astonishment. “And she’s found her mother, has she?” “She has.” “And sisters too?” “And brother and step-father; there’s a whole family.” “Whew! So many more to inherit the old Madame’s estate! Bad thing for Floy that!” “She doesn’t think so,” retorted Espy indignantly. “I never saw her look so unutterably happy, and I honor her for it.” “Humph! you do, eh? And what effect will all this have on _your_ prospects? Will the new-found parents approve the choice of the lovely heiress?” “That remains to be seen, sir,” Espy answered, coloring deeply and half averting his face. “It is not many hours since the first meeting of mother and daughter after their long separation, and, of course, they have not yet been able to think beyond the present moment.” “Well, well, my boy, I hope no objection will be raised; but if there should be, don’t you be too ready to give her up. And it’s my belief that she’ll stick to you through thick and thin.” “I don’t know, sir; she might deem it her duty to wait for her mother’s consent,” Espy answered despondingly. “Well, yes, maybe so. I remember she has a troublesome conscience, or streak of stubbornness, whichever you please to call it. But don’t borrow trouble. Many a one would think a rising young artist of good disposition, respectable family, and fine appearance not a very bad match even for an heiress,” remarked the elder gentleman, regarding his son with a proudly affectionate smile. “If they could see him through his father’s eyes,” Espy said, returning the smile, more reassured and comforted by the fatherly flattery than he cared to own even to himself. But when he had retired to the solitude of his own room he presently returned to his bitter and desponding mood. How could he feel sure even that Floy might not in time be weaned from him by these new-found relatives in case they did not fancy the match, seeing that already she was so taken up with them that he was quite forgotten? The greater part of the night was spent in gratuitous self-torture, but toward morning he fell into a sound sleep, from which he did not wake till the sun was several hours high. He started up with a confused feeling that something was wrong. Then it all came back to him in a flash--yesterday’s happy ending of Floy’s quest, with its attendant scenes.