Upon their return, two or three hours later, while still at a little

distance from the house, they saw Mr. Underwood and a stranger standing

together on the veranda. The latter, who was apparently about to take

his departure, and whom Darrell at once assumed to be Mr. Walcott, was

about thirty years of age, of medium height, with a finely proportioned

and rather muscular form, erect and dignified in his bearing, with a

lithe suppleness and grace in all his movements. He was standing with

his hat in his hand, and Darrell, who had time to observe him closely,

noting his jet-black hair, close cut excepting where it curled slightly

over his forehead, his black, silky moustache, and the oval contour of

his olive face, remembered Mr. Underwood's remark of the probability of

Spanish blood in his veins.

As they came near, Duke gave a low growl, but Kate instantly hushed him,

chiding him for his rudeness. At the sound, the stranger turned towards

them, and Mr. Underwood at once introduced Mr. Walcott to his daughter

and Mr. Darrell. He greeted them both with the most punctilious

courtesy, but as he faced Darrell, the latter saw for an instant in the

half-closed, blue-black eyes, the pity tinged with contempt to which he

had long since become accustomed, yet which, as often as he met it,

thrilled him anew with pain. The look passed, however, and Mr. Walcott,

in low, well-modulated tones, conversed pleasantly for a few moments

with the new-comers, the three young people forming a striking trio as

they stood there in the bright sunshine amid the June roses; then, with

a graceful adieu, he walked swiftly away.

As soon as he was out of hearing Mr. Underwood, turning to Darrell,

said,-"It is decided; the papers will be drawn to-morrow."

Then taking his daughter's flushed, perplexed face between his hands, he

said,-"Mr. Walcott and I are going into partnership; how do you like the looks

of my partner, Puss?"

She looked incredulous. "That young man your partner!" she exclaimed;

"why, he seems the very last man I should ever expect you to fancy!"

Then she added, laughing,-"Oh, papa, I think he must have hypnotized you! Does Aunt Marcia know?

May I tell her?" And, having gained his consent, she ran into the house

to impart the news to Mrs. Dean.

"That's the woman of it!" said Mr. Underwood, grimly; "they always want

to immediately tell some other woman! But what do you think of my

partner?" he asked, looking searchingly at Darrell, who had not yet

spoken.

Darrell did not reply at once; he felt in some way bewildered. All the

content, the joy, the sunshine of the last few hours seemed to have been

suddenly blotted out, though he could not have told why. The remembrance

of that glance still stung him, but aside from that, he felt his whole

soul filled with an inexplicable antagonism towards this man.




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