Durward bit his lip, while Mabel, in perfect good humor, dashed off into a spirited quickstep, receiving but little attention from Mr. Graham, who seemed in a strange mood to-day, scribbling upon a piece of white paper which lay upon the piano, and of which Durward managed to get possession, finding thereon the name, “Helena Nichols,” to which was added that of “Rivers,” the Nichols being crossed out.  It would seem as if both father and son were determined each to outstay the other, for hour after hour went by and neither spoke of leaving, although John Jr. had been gone some time.  At last, as the sun was setting, Durward arose to go, asking if his father contemplated spending the night; “and if so,” said he, with a meaning in his manner, “where shall I tell my mother I left you?”

This roused Mr. Graham, who said he was only waiting for his son to start, adding, that “he could not find it in his heart to tear him away from two so agreeable ladies, for he well remembered the weakness of his own youth.”

“In your second youth, now, I fancy,” thought Durward, watching him as he bade ’Lena and Mabel goodbye, and not failing to see how much longer he held the hand of the former than he did of the latter.

“Does she see as I do, or not?” thought he, as he took the hand his father dropped, and looked earnestly into the clear, brown eyes, which returned his inquiring glance with one open and innocent as a little child.

“All right here,” again thought Durward, slightly pressing the soft, warm hand he held in his own, and smiling down upon her when he saw how quickly that pressure brought the tell-tale blood to her cheek.

* * * * *

“Durward,” said Mr. Graham, after they were out of the city, “I have a request to make of you.”

“Well.”

The answer was very short and it was several minutes ere Mr. Graham again spoke.

“You know your mother as well as I do——­”

“Well.”

Another silence, and Mr. Graham continued; “You know how groundlessly jealous she is of me—­and it may be just as well for her not to know that——­”

Here he paused, and Durward finished the sentence for him.

“Just as well for her not to know that you’ve spent the afternoon with ’Lena Rivers; is that it?”

“That’s it—­yes—­yes”—­answered Mr. Graham, adding, ere Durward had time to utter the angry words which he felt rising within him, “I wish you’d marry ’Lena.”

This was so sudden—­so different from anything which Durward had expected, that he was taken quite by surprise, and it was some little time ere he answered,

“Perhaps I shall.”

“I wish you would,” continued Mr. Graham, “I’d willingly give every dollar I’m worth for the privilege of calling her my daughter.”