should pass.

They went out together, but still followed by that pair of malignant
eyes, which had, however, been cautiously veiled, as was also the face
in which they were set.

Ray walked with his betrothed to a corner, where he helped her aboard a
car, and then returned to his store.

Later, on that same day, a gay company of gentlemen and ladies filled
Mrs. Montague's spacious and elegant rooms, where she, in her elaborate
and becoming costume, entertained in her most charming manner.

Mr. Palmer had come very early and secured a private interview, previous
to the arrival of the other guests, and it was noticeable that, as the
lady received, a new and magnificent solitaire gleamed upon the third
finger of her left hand.

People surmised, very generally, what this meant, even before it was
whispered throughout the rooms that the engagement of Mr. Palmer and the
beautiful widow was formally announced. It was not very much of a
surprise, either, as such an event had been predicted for some time.

Ray did not arrive until late, for he had little heart for the gay scene,
and less sympathy in its object. But for his respect and love for his
father, he would not have set foot in the house at all.

"Gentlemen's dressing-room on the left of the hall above," said the
polite colored man, who attended the door, and Ray slowly mounted the
stairs, hoping that he might catch a glimpse, if not secure an