“No, Truman; eight days, I know, is the usual time allotted to the trip; but we had very favorable winds, and arrived several hours earlier than we expected,” Salome heard some one reply, in smooth, even, perfectly modulated tones, and then she caught sight of a stately, magnificently formed woman, having a proud, placid, high-bred face, crowned with a wealth of dark brown hair, in which she could not detect a trace of silver. She calmly received her son’s embrace, and returned it without the slightest exhibition of glad emotion, though her keen eyes searched his face with a critical glance and lingered there somewhat fondly. Behind her was a tall, beautiful girl, fair as a lily, with a delicate bloom on her cheeks, eyes of turquoise blue, and features that seemed chiselled from marble, they were so perfect. Her hair was of a beautiful red-gold tint, and was coiled in a graceful knot at the back of her fine head. Salome thought her lovely, and her heart went out to her with affectionate longing, especially when she saw her throw her arms about her brother’s neck and kiss him heartily on the lips. “How glad I am to see you, dear boy!” she cried. “It seems an age since we went away, doesn’t it? Are you well—and aren’t you delighted to see us home again?” “One question at a time, Evelyn,” laughingly exclaimed Dr. Winthrop. “But of course I shall say yes to every one, while it behooves me to compliment you upon your blooming appearance.” But he glanced behind him as he spoke, looking for Salome. They had avoided all mention of his wife—they appeared to ignore the fact that he was married, and he was secretly hurt and annoyed by the fact. But he was too proud to betray it, while he proved himself entirely equal to the trying occasion. “And now,” he continued, stepping back and reaching out his hand to Salome, “allow me to present you to my wife—to your daughter and sister. Mother, Evelyn, this is Salome.” Instantly two pairs of keen, critical eyes were glancing over the young bride, taking in, in one comprehensive sweep, every detail of her appearance—her toilet and bearing. She was very beautiful as she stood there beneath the brilliant light of the hall chandelier. She had, in compliance with her husband’s request, put on one of her new costumes—a rich black lace made over crimson silk—and fastened a cluster of white roses in her corsage. Her pure, cream-like complexion contrasted beautifully with the black and crimson; her hair was very tastefully arranged, while excitement had slightly flushed her cheeks and sent an unusual brilliancy into her dark eyes. She came forward at her husband’s gesture, with a graceful step and bearing. “You are very welcome,” she said sweetly, as she extended her hand, first to Madame Winthrop, then to her daughter. “I only regret that we did not know of your arrival, so that the doctor could go to meet you.”