She sat down on the piano-stool, looking at him doubtfully. Was this an offer of a million in disguise? or could it be-- "You don't mean," she said, "that you won't give me any letters of introduction?" "I mean, little cousin, that I'll do all in my power to keep you from the hardships and the hurts of public life." He put a hand on her shoulder, and was looking down upon her. She opened her lips, but no sound came. "There won't be any lack in _your_ life of beautiful and worth-while things; don't spoil it all--don't spoil yourself by being too eager." "Y--you don't understand," she faltered, with a suffocating sense of throbbing in her throat. "Oh yes, I do. I understand a lot. Promise me you won't take any steps about this without letting me know." She shook her head, and tried to draw from under the thrilling touch of his hand. "I shall not let you go till you promise." The other hand had fallen on her other shoulder. It was as if chains were being hung upon her. But why wasn't she struggling? Why--why was bondage so sweet? "I'm waiting. Promise!" said the masterful voice. "I--promise." The tumult in her heart made the clang of the dinner-bell sound as if it were ringing in some far-off place. "What--what was it I promised?" she asked herself again and again. CHAPTER XXI It struck Mrs. Gano the next day, as they were out driving, that Val was unusually subdued. She seemed to see nothing that they passed, hear nothing that was said. But it could not be said she looked unhappy. And Ethan was in excellent spirits. Emmie was bowing right and left, bowing with that air she had rapidly acquired, and was sedulously cultivating, a royal-condescension-to-the-crowd kind of bow. "Who is that?" asked Mrs. Gano, seeing Emmie's pantomime, and seeing, too, that Val had made no sign. "Mr. Peter Hall." "What! Not the young Pete Hall that I recommended to Blakistons?" "Yes'm," said Emmie, meekly. "Why do you bow to him?" "Oh, I know him." "We all _know_ him, but that's no reason you should recognize him out of the store." "I don't see why--" began Emmie. "I've told you before, you do not know such persons except in their capacity of salesmen." "He bowed to me, grandma." "Impertinence! Teach him a lesson next time. Don't notice him." Mrs. Gano's point of view not only seemed to Val quite natural, but this very same conversation, with some immaterial variation, had taken place too often to merit notice. Cousin Ethan, however, was looking from one to the other in frank amazement. "'Tisn't as if Peter Hall was a servant," said Emmie, appealingly. "I've given up bowing to the Otways' coachman." "Isn't all this very undemocratic?" Ethan asked. "It's a most essential consideration in a democracy." "But do you realize that it shows a degree of class prejudice that doesn't exist in the older, the monarchical countries?"