Sudden as was this good fortune to Miss Trotter, an independence she had so often deservedly looked forward to, she was, nevertheless, keenly alive to the fact that she had attained it partly through Chris’s disappointment and unhappiness.  Her sane mind taught her that it was better for him; that he had been saved an ill-assorted marriage; that the girl had virtually rejected him for Bilson before he had asked her mediation that morning.  Yet these reasons failed to satisfy her feelings.  It seemed cruel to her that the interest which she had suddenly taken in poor Chris should end so ironically in disaster to her sentiment and success to her material prosperity.  She thought of his boyish appeal to her; of what must have been his utter discomfiture in the discovery of Frida’s relations to Mr. Bilson that afternoon, but more particularly of the singular change it had effected in him.  How nobly and gently he had taken his loss!  How much more like a man he looked in his defeat than in his passion!  The element of respect which had been wanting in her previous interest in him was now present in her thoughts.  It prevented her seeking him with perfunctory sympathy and worldly counsel; it made her feel strangely and unaccountably shy of any other expression.

As Mr. Bilson evidently desired to avoid local gossip until after his marriage, he had enjoined secrecy upon her, and she was also debarred from any news of Chris through his brother, who, had he known of Frida’s engagement, would have naturally come to her for explanation.  It also convinced her that Chris himself had not revealed anything to his brother.

III

When the news of the marriage reached Buckeye Hill, it did not, however, make much scandal, owing, possibly, to the scant number of the sex who are apt to disseminate it, and to many the name of Miss Jansen was unknown.  The intelligence that Mr. Bilson would be absent for a year, and that the superior control of the Summit Hotel would devolve upon Miss Trotter, did, however, create a stir in that practical business community.  No one doubted the wisdom of the selection.  Every one knew that to Miss Trotter’s tact and intellect the success of the hotel had been mainly due.  Possibly, the satisfaction of Buckeye Hill was due to something else.  Slowly and insensibly Miss Trotter had achieved a social distinction; the wives and daughters of the banker, the lawyer, and the pastor had made much of her, and now, as an independent woman of means, she stood first in the district.  Guests deemed it an honor to have a personal interview with her.  The governor of the State and the Supreme Court judges treated her like a private hostess; middle-aged Miss Trotter was considered as eligible a match as the proudest heiress in California.  The old romantic fiction of her past was revived again,—­they had known she was a “real lady” from the first!  She received these attentions, as became her sane intellect and cool temperament, without pride, affectation, or hesitation.  Only her dark eyes brightened on the day when Mr. Bilson’s marriage was made known, and she was called upon by James Calton.