She knew the name of the large dry goods firm that Gavin served, and the morning after her arrival in New York she strolled into it for a pair of gloves. As they were being fitted on she heard Gavin speak, and moving her position slightly, she saw him leaning against a pile of summer blankets. He was talking to one of his fellows, and evidently telling a funny story, at which both giggled and snickered, ere they walked their separate ways. Being midsummer the store was nearly empty, and Jean, by varying her purchases, easily kept Gavin in sight. She never for one moment found the sight a pleasant one. Gavin had deteriorated in every way. He was no longer handsome; the veil of youth had fallen from him, and his face, his hands, his figure, his slouching walk, his querulous authoritative voice, all revealed a man whom Jean repelled at every point. Years had not refined, they had vulgarized him. His clothing careless and not quite fresh, offended her taste; in fact, his whole appearance was of that shabby genteel character, which is far more mean and plebeian than can be given by undisguised working apparel. As Jean was taking note of these things a girl, with a flushed, angry face, spoke to him. She was evidently making a complaint, and Gavin answered her in a manner which made Jean burn from head to feet. The disillusion was complete; she never looked at him again, and he never knew she had looked at him at all. But after Mary's marriage he heard news which startled him. Mary, under her new name, wrote to an acquaintance in Lambrig, and this acquaintance in reply said, "You will have heard that Jean Anderson was left a great fortune by her uncle, David Nicoll. She is building a home near Lambrig that is finer than Maxwell Castle; and Lord Maxwell has rented the castle to her until her new home is finished. You wouldn't ken the looks of her now, she is that handsome, but weel-a-way, fine feathers aye make fine birds!" Gavin fairly trembled when he heard this news, and as he had been with the firm eleven years and never asked a favor, he resolved to tell them he had important business in Scotland, and ask for a month's holiday to attend to it. If he was on the ground he never doubted his personal influence. "Jean was aye wax in my fingers," he said to Mary. "There is Annie Riley," answered Mary. "She will have to give me up. I'll not marry her. I am going to marry Jean, and settle myself in Scotland." "Annie is not the girl to be thrown off that kind of way, Gavin. You have promised to marry her." "I shall marry Jean Anderson, and then what will Annie do about it, I would like to know?" "I think you will find out."