"There will be none who care to disapprove," he said. "Yours was a more difficult case than George's--he had only the men to satisfy, and that is easy, where one is a good fellow and a manly. You had the women--and women are jealous, vindictive and irresponsible. But you won. They all are for you--there is not one that is even undecided." "I am glad, very glad," she said. "I want to please them--I was afraid I had failed. You are a dear to tell me this--a perfect dear, Dick." The sweet unaffectedness was refreshing. It is not possible, he thought, that the girl does not know she is beautiful. One look in her mirror would tell her, one glance at her figure--her complexion, her eyes, her hair--oh! assuredly, she must know it. He had seen it coming, had seen it grow. Six years ago, when they first came to Annapolis, he had marked her--the young girl just budding into womanhood. He had been of those who early accepted the Marburys, and four years later, when Hedgely Hall was offered for sale, the fact that his place adjoined it, was, he knew, a consideration for its purchase. Since then, he had watched the woman beside him perfect into the beauty of to-day--with all the winsomeness, all the freshness, of the unspoiled and unaffected. He had seen it as none other, for he had a place in the household which was for him alone--he was guide and mentor and elder brother to her, all in one. The parents were not capable, at times, of advising, so he took the duty on himself--not that she needed much counsel, but, when she did, she knew where to find it. It was at his own request that she had come to call him "Dick," dropping the Mr. Maynadier, as quite too formal, and evading Richard "because that was what all his other friends called him." He was so much older,--later, he had liked the intimacy of it, the spirit of comradeship--to-night, he had suddenly realized that, even to him, she was no longer the sweet-faced girl, whom he had petted, and chided, and advised, by turns. She was able to stand alone, to be made love to--and had been these many months!... Yet none had sought her, as a lover seeks! And, why? Was it because of her birth? Was it because of him--the friend? Was it because of herself--would she have none of them?---- "What is the matter, Dick?" she said, "why do you not answer? Your eyes are on me, but your mind is far away." "I beg your pardon!" he exclaimed, "it was rude, I know--what did you say?" "I asked why it was you shrugged your shoulders--why was it?" "I was cold--it is drafty here." "Nonsense!--be serious----" "I cannot. I am----" "Dick, you are possessed!" she laughed. "You are----" "I am," he cut in--"I am possessed of shrugs--they come and go as they will--I am not responsible--I am----" "You are trying to avoid telling me--confess it." "Now, Judith----" "Do you not see, Dick, that you have aroused my curiosity to an ungovernable pitch. You must tell me--and now--now--now!" He threw up his hands in mock despair.