In external beauty she was more striking at first than Madge.

She did not in the least regret that she must enter alone, for she was not proud of her mother, and nothing drew attention from herself.

She assumed, however, a slight and charming trace of embarrassment and perplexity, which to Graydon was perfectly irresistible, and he mentally resolved that she should not much longer want a devoted escort.

Madge saw his glance of sympathy and strong admiration, his smile and low bow as she passed, ushered forward by the obsequious headwaiter, and her heart sank.

In spite of all she had attempted and achieved, the old cynical assurance came back to her--"You are nothing to Graydon, and never can be anything to him." She was pale enough now, but her eyes burned with the resolution not to yield until all hope was slain.