Norman Winthrop returned with his father, but could give no definite information as to his brother’s plans. He was going to travel, he told them, but where he did not know, and he had sent no message to either his mother or his sister; neither had he written them one word since his abrupt departure. The Winthrops all went to Cape May for the summer, where Evelyn and her mother tried to stifle conscience by going into society as much as possible and by entertaining when the health of Mr. Winthrop would permit. He was still very delicate, and spent much of his time, attended by a servant, upon the beach, or with his books upon the broad veranda of their cottage. No word came across the ocean to them from the wanderer, and only once during these long months did they hear, even indirectly, from him. Then they learned that a friend of one of their new acquaintances had met him at Interlaken, where they planned to make the ascent of the Jungfrau together, after which they were going to Germany in company. It was meagre news, but they were glad to get even this crumb to feed their hungry hearts. CHAPTER XVII. THE ROCHESTERS ARE INTRODUCED. It was a fine day in October. In a beautiful room in one of the apartment-houses in the Rue de Rivoli, in Paris, a handsome woman might have been seen sitting before a cheerful fire in the polished grate; for although the sun was shining brightly outside and the day was perfect, the air within the rooms, shut in, as they were, behind solid walls, was keen and chill. The occupant of this room was, perhaps, forty-five years of age, though she looked younger. She had a small, finely shaped head, large, liquid brown eyes, and chestnut hair, in which it would have taken a keen eye to discover a thread of silver, rather delicately moulded features, and a clear, softly tinted complexion. She was tall and rather slight, although not angularly so, and there were in every movement an energy and an animation which, in a woman of her age, were extremely fascinating. She was simply, though elegantly, clad in a heavy, lustreless black silk, that fitted her fine figure like a glove, while the soft white crape ruchings at her throat and wrist betrayed that she was in mourning. Low slippers incased the well-shaped feet that rested upon a hassock. In her white hands, upon one of which there gleamed a massive wedding-ring and a costly diamond, she held some bright-colored fancy work, and, in the light of the glowing fire, surrounded by the rich hangings and elaborate furnishings of the room, she made a very attractive picture. Presently the door behind her opened, and a girl of about twenty-two or twenty-three years swept into the apartment in a bright, breezy way that was like the rustling of the gayly tinted autumn leaves upon the trees outside.