Her fear of the latter proved his best ally.  There was a resolution in his eye since his return this evening that, even while it angered her somewhat, convinced her that he would not be trifled with.  His suit was that of a man who had an advantage which she dared not ignore, and her father’s manner increased this impression.  She felt that her game was becoming delicate and hazardous, but she would not forego its delicious excitement, or abandon the hope that Graydon might still be in a position to warrant her preference.  Therefore she proposed to yield to Arnault as far as she could without alienating Muir, hoping that the former would soon return to town again, and thus more time be secured for her final decision.

Before the first evening of his rivals advent had passed, Graydon felt that he must appear to the people in the house as supplanted, and his pride was beginning to be touched.  Mrs. Muir’s words had added to his irritation.  The episode with Madge had left a decidedly unpleasant impression.  He felt not only that he had failed to understand her, but that he might be treating her with a neglect which she had a right to resent.  Her appearance and manner during the storm had almost startled him; her abrupt departure had caused sudden and strong compunction; and he had wished that they might come to a better understanding; but thoughts of her had soon given place to anxiety in regard to Miss Wildmere.  It began to seem strange that the girl who had apparently waited for him so long, and who had permitted such unequivocal words and manner on his part that day, should now, before his very eyes, be accepting attentions even more unmistakable from another man.  She had tried to explain and prepare him for all this, but there was more than he was prepared for.  She not only danced oftener with Arnault than with any one else, but also strolled with him on the dusky piazza, which, by reason of the dampness due to the storm, was almost deserted.  Graydon had permitted his brow to become clouded, and was so perturbed by the events of the evening that he had not disguised his vexation by gallantries to others.  At last he detected smiles and whispered surmises on the part of some who had seen his devotion before the arrival of Mr. Arnault.  This almost angered him, and he felt that Miss Wildmere had imposed a role that would be difficult to maintain.

He had lingered conspicuously near, intent on proving his loyalty, and had hoped every moment that his opportunity would come.  He felt that she should at least divide her time evenly with him and Mr. Arnault, but the evening was drawing to a close, and the latter had received the lion’s share.  After noting that others were observing his desolation, he went resolutely out on the piazza, with the intention of asking Miss Wildmere to give him the last waltz.  Its wide space was deserted.  He waited a few moments, thinking that the object of his thoughts would turn the corner in her promenade with his rival.