The spectacled gentleman was Olivia’s father, and he mockingly rebuked Marian Devereux for having encouraged an infraction of parental discipline, while she was twitting him upon the loss of his wager. Then her eyes rested upon me for the first time. She smiled slightly, but continued talking placidly to her host. The situation did not please me; I had not traveled so far and burglariously entered Doctor Armstrong’s house in quest of a girl with blue eyes merely to stand by while she talked to another man. I drew nearer, impatiently; and was conscious that four other young men in white waistcoats and gloves quite as irreproachable as my own stood ready to claim her the instant she was free. I did not propose to be thwarted by the beaux of Cincinnati, so I stepped toward Doctor Armstrong. “I beg your pardon, Doctor—,” I said with an assurance for which I blush to this hour. “All right, my boy; I, too, have been in Arcady!” he exclaimed in cheerful apology, and she put her hand on my arm and I led her away. “He called me ‘my boy,’ so I must be passing muster,” I remarked, not daring to look at her. “He’s afraid not to recognize you. His inability to remember faces is a town joke.” We reached a quiet corner of the great hall and I found a seat for her. “You don’t seem surprised to see me,—you knew I would come. I should have come across the world for this,—for just this.” Her eyes were grave at once. “Why did you come? I did not think you were so foolish. This is all—so wretched,—so unfortunate. You didn’t know that Mr. Pickering—Mr. Pickering—” She was greatly distressed and this name came from her chokingly. “Yes; what of him?” I laughed. “He is well on his way to California,—and without you!” She spoke hurriedly, eagerly, bending toward me. “No—you don’t know—you don’t understand—he’s here; he abandoned his California trip at Chicago; he telegraphed me to expect him—here—to-night! You must go at once,—at once!” “Ah, but you can’t frighten me,” I said, trying to realize just what a meeting with Pickering in that house might mean. “No,”—she looked anxiously about,—”they were to arrive late, he and the Taylors; they know the Armstrongs quite well. They may come at any moment now. Please go!” “But I have only a few minutes myself,—you wouldn’t have me sit them out in the station down town? There are some things I have come to say, and Arthur Pickering and I are not afraid of each other!” “But you must not meet him here! Think what that would mean to me! You are very foolhardy, Mr. Glenarm. I had no idea you would come—” “But you wished to try me,—you challenged me.” “That wasn’t me,—it was Olivia,” she laughed, more at ease, “I thought—” “Yes, what did you think?” I asked. “That I was tied hand and foot by a dead man’s money?”