The little group of women about him smiled. Only, he noticed the men stood apart--the men, and one girl, who had never moved from a sofa in the corner. Vickers turned and looked at her, and as he did so, Mrs. Raikes exclaimed: “What a shame it is! We have monopolized him so that his own cousin has not had a chance to speak to him. Come, Nellie, we’ll make room for you.” Thus challenged Nellie rose very slowly, and Vickers’s eyes rested on her long slim figure, and immobile little face. “Why did not you cable, Bob?” she said. He had on his voyage home imagined every possible sort of meeting between them--meetings which ranged from frenzied reproaches to caresses, but he had not imagined just this. Even the rest of the company seemed to feel it was an inadequate greeting to a cousin who had been away twelve years, and they turned with some amusement to catch Vickers’s answer. “I did not cable,” he said good-temperedly, “because I had neither the time nor the price.” There seemed to be no answer to this, and Nellie attempted none. Her eyebrows went up a little, and she returned to her sofa. Mrs. Raikes hastily followed her to say good-night. “I suppose we must leave you to a family reunion,” she said, and added, lowering her voice: “Such a nice prodigal, Nellie. If I were you, I should fall in love with him at once.” Nellie’s eyes dwelt on her cousin with an amusement worse than anger. “I don’t think I shall ever fall in love with Bob,” she answered, and Emmons, who was sitting beside her, could not repress a slight sniff of contempt. Mrs. Raikes approached her host. “Good-night, Mr. Lee. Thank you for such a pleasant after-dinner surprise. Good-night, Mr. Robert Lee. Will you come and dine with me some night? I always keep a fatted calf on hand.” Vickers laughed. “Don’t you think I’ll get it at home?” he asked. “Well, you know, Nellie is the housekeeper,” They both glanced at the girl’s impassive countenance, and smiled at each other. They, at least, were going to be friends. Even after the guests were gone, and the three stood alone on the hearth-rug, Nellie remained silent. Vickers could not resist saying lightly: “You don’t seem very glad to see me, Nellie.” “On the contrary,” she answered, with meaning. “Don’t sit up too late talking to Bob, Uncle Robert,” and with the curtest of nods she was gone. He turned to Mr. Lee and observed with some bitterness that Nellie’s manner was not very cordial. The old man shook his head. “No,” he said; “I was afraid you would notice it. You must not expect too much of Nellie. She is a good girl, but she has not a warm heart.” “She has an attractive face,” said Vickers. It was after midnight before Vickers found himself alone; he had sent the servants to bed, and was standing a minute in the act of turning out the lights. Plimpton had shown him--as one who bestows the freedom of the city--where the switch was to be found.