He could not understand the wonderful radiance that came upon Floy’s lovely face while he was speaking, making her beauty almost unearthly. She was thinking, joyously: “Oh, how blest I am that I have found favor with _his_ mother--my darling’s mother--and his gifted sister! They will take me into his dear home, and I will try to win their love, so that when he comes and finds me there they will be glad that I am his chosen one.” “Do you like the plan? Will you come with me to Mrs. Beresford?” asked Floyd Landon. “Oh, so gladly--so gladly!” she cried, in a sort of rapture. “Then let us lose no time in starting. And--hadn’t you better find some sort of a disguise--a thick veil anyhow--so that you need not be recognized in going through the town?” he suggested. Floy pulled open the drawers and found an old-fashioned traveling-wrap and thick veil and bonnet. She put these on in a hurry, and they left the house with its grim occupant, Otho Maury, lying silent on the floor, not yet revived from his long swoon. No one would have recognized the detective’s prim, old-fashioned-looking traveling companion as merry little Fly-away Floy. Her disguising costume was foreign in style, in fact, had been worn by her mother on her return from England. CHAPTER XXX. “’TIS HOME WHERE’ER THE HEART IS.” “I can no longer wonder at my mother’s enthusiasm,” thought Alva Beresford, on first beholding Floy. It was not yet midnight when Floyd Landon arrived at the Fifth Avenue mansion with his charge. He knew that it was late to intrude, but under the peculiar circumstances of the case, he deemed it best to waive ceremony and go at once to the house. His arrival was timely, for Miss Beresford was just leaving her carriage on returning from a wedding-reception. She was in magnificent evening-dress, and the sheen of her diamonds fairly dazzled Floy’s eyes as she gazed at the beautiful belle, while her features, so like those of her brother, made her fond heart leap wildly in her breast. Floyd Landon presented his charge with a few explanatory words, and Miss Beresford was exceedingly gracious. “So good of you to bring her to me at once,” she cried, as she pressed Floy’s little hand. “Now, you must come into the house and tell me all about it,” she added, eagerly. “I thank you, but the hour is late, and you must be weary after the evening’s pleasure. I will postpone the telling until another time, if you will permit me,” answered Floyd Landon, anxious to get home to his wife, whom he had left ailing when he went away that day. “To-morrow morning then, if you have leisure,” replied the beautiful heiress; and after bidding him good-night, she and Floy went up the white marble steps and into the house.