"She?" he murmured. "Miss Lady!" and presently sprang after, to return a moment later with the two ere they had left the hall. Whereupon followed all manner of helpless, hopeless, banal and inadequate commonplaces, out of which Eddring blankly remembered only that the visit of Miss Lady to the city was to terminate that evening, at the departure of the down train. And so, after all, little remained for him but a present parting, though all his soul cried out for speech with Miss Lady alone, for the sight of her face only. It was as though within the moment all the energies of his life had been directed into a new channel, whose insufficient walls were threatened with destruction by the flooding torrent. The primeval man arose, exulting, sure; and so, in a moment, John Eddring knew why the world was made, and by what tremendous enginery of imperious desire it is driven on its way. Work, riches, art, music, architecture, the vast industrialism of an age, all this thing called progress--all, all were for this alone, this thing of love! The atmosphere about him thrilled, vibrant with this message of the universe. The interspaces of all things seemed lambent, and therein fixed centrally was this ineffaceable and ineffable picture. He gazed, and as he gazed there came to him but one thought: For ever. "John," said Mrs. Eddring, when they were again alone, "that's a sweet girl, a _very_ sweet girl. Did you notice how she thanked me--as being the elder lady, you know--for our call? I think--" Eddring started, only half-hearing her. "But that lady, her mother," went on Mrs. Eddring, "I can't tell, yet for some reason I do not fully understand her. But--" and here she gained conviction, "you need not tell_ me!_ There is _family_ somewhere back of that girl, my son. She's good enough. She's--" "Good enough!" cried John Eddring. "Good enough! What do you mean?" "Ah, my boy," said Mrs. Eddring, sighing, "I know. I presume, I hope, that you feel quite as the general did, when I was a girl. Sometimes I have thought the world was changing in such matters. I shall want to see this young lady again, and often. We must inquire--but here I am, talking with you, when of course you must be back at your work. I'll leave you now." "Work!" cried John Eddring. "Work!" CHAPTER XI. COLONEL CALVIN BLOUNT'S PROPOSAL.