Lois and Blanche looked irresistibly beautiful as they entered the room, the one in her simple, somber attire, the other in a shimmering green silken robe, trimmed with white lace, and frilled fine muslin. As Lois came in, Paul Desfrayne’s eyes met hers, and by some mysterious fascination, neither he nor she could remove their gaze. The young girl trembled from some undefined feeling--a sense of mingled pain and pleasure. Paul felt as if some gauntleted hand had mercilessly compressed his heart. He shivered as if from cold. “I believe some malignant genius drove me out this day,” he thought. Lois averted her eyes by a violent effort of will. “Why does he look at me like this, when he is so cold and repellent in his manners?” she indignantly asked herself. Lady Quaintree caught the glance, and partly interpreted the looks of both. “I wish I had had the sense to stop at home,” she said mentally. “I am afraid my Gerald’s chance will be a small one. We really must get away to-morrow at latest. Luckily, the gallant knight errant is pinned safely down in this remote part of the world, and I must coax Lois to go to Switzerland, or some other comfortable place, to give my boy a fair start in the race.” Her ladyship kept a pretty sharp watch on the two young people--Lois and her handsome young trustee. But, during dinner, nothing rewarded her for her vigilance, or, to speak more correctly, she was absolutely rewarded by observing that they did not once exchange a look, and only noticed each other’s presence when obliged to do so by the etiquette of the table. This apparent mutual misunderstanding puzzled her a good deal. Captain Desfrayne’s reserved manner with his beautiful young charge perplexed her extremely. That he should not endeavor to improve his opportunity of obtaining favor with the young girl seemed inexplicable; and when she found that both were evidently resolved on steadfastly declining to pass the ice-bound line that divided them, she marveled more and more. “There is some undercurrent here which I do not understand,” she thought. “It seems strange, but there is certainly some ill-will between them. What can the matter be?” Had not Lois been her constant companion for the last four years, during which time the young girl had been completely ignorant of Paul Desfrayne’s existence, Lady Quaintree might have imagined, with Blanche Dormer, that there was a lovers’ quarrel. After cudgeling her brains for an explanation of this mystery, a possible solution presented itself. Lady Quaintree knew family pride to be one of Mrs. Desfrayne’s weak points, and perhaps this peculiarity might be magnified in her son. Remembering that if the refusal to obey the old man’s whim came from his side, it would involve on his part a heavy pecuniary loss, she concluded that he wished to induce Miss Turquand to think him a very undesirable lover, and thus to cause the refusal to come from her.