And she gazed with silent admiration at her noble husband, who loved her so devotedly, and who had not been too proud to marry a simple working girl and lift her to his own station in life. Although she did not love him in a romantic fashion, she admired his noble, manly nature more and more daily. And she found a bitter satisfaction in seeing that her betrayer did not look so gay and debonair as in the past. He was certainly altered; his face was pale and grave, his eyes were sad and serious. CHAPTER XXI. A RETURN CALL. Something more than a week after the Wyldes had called upon the Falconers, Juliette suggested, one day, that it was time that they should return the call. “You and Pansy can do so this afternoon,” Colonel Falconer replied. “As for me, I cannot spare a day from those lawyers until I get through my business, for I am hurrying all I can, that I may take my family away from the city before the heated term sets in.” “Then we will call to-day, and we can then find out where they intend to summer, for I should like to go to the same place,” exclaimed Juliette. So at noon that day they found themselves ringing the doorbell at a residence on Grace Street, quite as elegant as the one they had left. They were shown into an elegant and tasteful drawing-room, and told that the ladies would be down directly. Pansy sat silent, with her eyes fixed on the door, when suddenly it was pushed ajar by a dimpled little hand, and the figure of a child became partly visible--a beautiful child, of perhaps three years old. The little fellow was simply clothed, in a white Mother Hubbard slip, and his big, dark eyes looked fearlessly at the two ladies. Pansy’s heart thrilled strangely at sight of the child, for there was something in his face that suggested Norman Wylde. Holding out her hands, she cried coaxingly: “Come here, you pretty little darling!” The child hesitated a moment, then pattered lightly across the carpet with his little bare feet to her side. She placed him on her knee, and, clasping him in her arms, kissed the pretty, rosy face repeatedly. “What is your name, dear?” she asked. “Pet!” he replied, while Juliette looked on coldly. Apparently the child quite reciprocated the fancy Mrs. Falconer had shown for him. While she smoothed his sunny curls with loving hands, he patted her cheek tenderly, and cooed: “Pretty yady, pretty yady!” Suddenly the door unclosed, admitting Mrs. Wylde, the stately matron, and her handsome daughter, Rosalind. They frowned at sight of the pretty child, and, after exchanging greetings with their guests, Rosalind exclaimed sharply: “What are you doing here, Pet? Get down this instant, and go away.” But, to her astonishment, the little one clung to Pansy, and cried out rebelliously: “No, no, me stay ’ith pretty yady!” “The little monkey! He never offered to disobey me before,” exclaimed Rosalind, frowning, and she removed him by force from Pansy’s lap, for he screamed and struggled to stay.