Just as she was turning away, some one touched her on the arm. “Miss Gladstone, allow me to present my brother, Mr. Ralph Meredith.” It was Miss Meredith—Grace Meredith she had told Star she was called—who spoke, and looking up, she found a pair of brilliant dark eyes looking into hers, a handsome face smiling down upon her, while a musical voice acknowledged the introduction with evident pleasure. “I expect you are _the ‘star’_ whom I have been wishing to know for a long time,” he said, significantly, as he took the hand she held out to him, and thought he had never seen a lovelier face in his life. Star thanked him with a charming smile for his interest in her, and introduced him to Mr. Rosevelt; then turned to Miss Meredith to escape from the praises which she saw he was longing to pour into her ears. The young man was somewhat chagrined at being thus summarily disposed of, but he was too polite and good-natured to betray it, and did his best to make himself agreeable to the old gentleman and win his good-will. Gradually, however, he managed to attract the attention of the young ladies, and then the conversation became general, and they chatted pleasantly for several minutes, until, at a look from Star, Mr. Rosevelt declared they must go, “for he was not used to late hours, and Star, he knew, was nearly worn out with the excitement of the day.” Mr. Meredith regretted that they must leave, but begged, with his most captivating smile: “May I have the pleasure, Miss Gladstone, of coming with my sister to call upon you?” “Certainly,” Star answered, graciously, for she was pleased with both brother and sister. “I shall be very happy to have you do so. We live——” “Wait a minute, Star, and I will write our address down for them. It is so difficult to remember numbers, I am afraid they will forget;” and taking a leaf from a small notebook that was in his pocket, Mr. Rosevelt wrote both street and number and passed it to young Meredith. Star thought he looked surprised as he read it. Was it because of the humble locality? she wondered. They then exchanged good-nights and parted. When they reached the street, Mr. Rosevelt said: “I am going to call a carriage, dear, for I know you are just ready to drop from weariness;” and Star did not object, for she was indeed exceedingly tired. When they reached home she insisted upon making a cup of tea for Uncle Jacob, saying that he was not accustomed to such late hours and dissipation; “and besides,” she added, with a smile, “she felt like having a drop herself.” But the old gentleman was so absent-minded over his tea, that she felt almost guilty for having kept him up so late, and feared he would be ill to-morrow. She put away the tea things when they were through, and was about to light her lamp to retire, when he stopped her, saying: “Star, my dear, come and sit down upon this ottoman by me; I have something I wish to say to you.”