“That leaves a small margin for kindly interest in an old acquaintance,” was her reply as they rose from the table, and he saw that her feelings were hurt.

“Confound it!” he thought, with irritation, “it’s all so uncalled-for and unnatural!  Nothing is as it used to be.  Well, then, I’ll talk about books and matters as impersonal as if we were disembodied spirits.”

They had scarcely seated themselves on the piazza before Miss Wildmere came forward and introduced her mother.  The young lady was determined to prepare the way for a family party.  Graydon had a confident, opulent air, which led to the belief that her father’s fears were groundless, and that before many weeks should elapse the Muirs would have to acknowledge her openly.  It would save embarrassment if this came about naturally and gradually, and she believed that she could be so charming as to make them covet the alliance.  Miss Alden might not like it, and the more she disliked it the better.

Mrs. Muir’s thoughts were somewhat akin.  “If Graydon will marry this girl, it’s wise that we should begin on good terms.  This is a matter that Henry can’t control, and there’s no use in our yielding to prejudice.”

Therefore she was talkative, courteous, and rapidly softened toward the people whom her husband found so distasteful.  Graydon employed all his skill and tact to make the conversation general and agreeable, but the cloud did not wholly pass from Madge’s brow.  From the moment of her first cold, curious stare, years since, Miss Wildmere had antagonized every fibre of the young girl’s soul and body, and she had resolved never to be more than polite to her.  She did not look forward to future relationship, as was the case with Mrs. Muir, but rather to entire separation, should Graydon become Miss Wildmere’s accepted suitor.  Now, with the instinct of self-defence, she was more cordial to her rival than to Graydon, until, at the solicitation of the children, she stole away.  Mr. Muir remarked that he was going to take a nap, and soon followed her.

Their departure was a relief to Graydon, for it rendered the carrying out of his plan less embarrassing.  In his eagerness to be alone with the object of his hopes, he soon obtained a carriage, and with Miss Wildmere drove away.  Mrs. Muir and Mrs. Wildmere compared maternal and domestic notes sometime longer, and then the former went to her room quite reconciled to what now appeared inevitable.

“I think you are prejudiced, Henry,” she remarked to her husband, who was tossing restlessly on the bed.

“Least said soonest mended,” was his only response, and then he changed the subject.