"He is a polite villain of the deepest dye, and I know it." It was after eleven o'clock when the train pulled into Oakdale.

Mrs.
Gibson's chauffeur awaited them with the big touring car, in which there was ample room for all of them.
"Keep a sharp lookout for that man," whispered Grace to Miriam.

"I want to see if Oakdale is his destination." The two girls lagged behind the others, eagerly scanning the platform.
"I think he must have gone on," said Miriam.

"I don't see him.

Don't worry any more about him, Grace." Then she walked on ahead.
But Grace lingered.