“Do you think so?” she asked, “but you see that was impossible. She was engaged to be married all those years, and she left me to become a companion to a husband who worshiped her, and who had grown impatient of waiting.” The light of the lamps shining full on his splendidly handsome face, showed that the delicate shaft had struck home. He winced slightly, said, “Ah-h?” in an embarrassed tone, and then a silence ensued, which he broke at length by an abrupt change of the subject: “There is something that I ought to tell you, Nina, as the mistress of Selwyn Heights. My friends with whom I have been yachting--Cameron and the rest--have threatened to make an unceremonious descent upon us to-morrow. Of course I would rather they did not--so soon--but they have been so kind to me, I could really say nothing when they said they were so anxious to meet my young wife, and as they were yachting in these waters, they would run into Selwyn Heights to-morrow. Can you, will you, receive them, Nina? Or will it be inconvenient for you to entertain them?” He wondered why she grew as pale as her trailing white robe, why she held her white hands so tightly together in her lap, why she was silent so long before she answered in a dull, strange voice: “I will receive them.” “The thought does not please you,” he said, quickly, and with a ring of offended pride in his tone. “Very well, Nina, you shall not be disturbed. This is your house, your home, and I will see that my friends do not intrude upon you.” She rose quickly from her seat and looked him through with her proud, pure gaze. “You quite misunderstood me, Mr. Strangemore,” she said, with quiet dignity. “You are master here as I am mistress. Your friends have a right to come to Selwyn Heights, I am ready to welcome them here. I had no intention of declining the honor of their visit. I will go now and consult with Aunt Drusilla, as to the arrangements for their entertainment.” She swept to the door with queenly grace. He followed her almost against his own will, for her looks and tones although quiet and well-bred, had been a tacit repulse to him. “You will come back,” he said. She paused on the threshold, a slim, white figure, full of enchanting girlish curves and supple grace, looking back at him. “No, this is my good-night,” she answered. “But I shall see you again to-night,” he said, taking her hand in his and looking tenderly at the beautiful face. She drew it quickly away and a hot blush stained her white brow and cheeks. Her young bosom heaved beneath its lace and flowers. “No, not until to-morrow,” she answered, with something like a passionate protest in her young voice. “You know we are like strangers yet.” “Good-night, then, my beautiful Nina,” he said, gently, but she shrank from the offered caress, and ran swiftly away from him. He watched the pretty bride-like figure disappear with something like regret.