"In a week, did you say?"

"Positively."

"Well, I'll be ready," she said solemnly.

He kissed her tenderly, lovingly, pressed her cold hand and said
encouragingly:

"We'll meet in New York next Monday afternoon. Leave everything to me,
dear. It will be much pleasanter to go by way of London and it will help
to kill a good deal of time."

"Hugh," she said, smiling faintly, "I think we're proving that father
was right. I can't possibly arrive at the age of discretion until I am
twenty-three and past."



CHAPTER II

THE BEGINNING OF FLIGHT

Mr. Ridgeway paced back and forth outside the iron gates in the Grand
Central Station on the afternoon of April 1st, 190--, a smile of
anticipation and a frown of impatience alternating in his fresh, young
face. Certain lines of care seemed to have disappeared since we saw him
last, nearly a week ago, and in their stead beamed the light of a
new-found interest in life. Now and then he took from his pocket a
telegram; spectators stared amusedly at him as he read and reread: