the evening passed very pleasantly.

When, at a late hour, Hugh Mainwaring, in the dimly-lighted veranda,
bade his guests good-night, he grasped the hand of his namesake and
said, in a tone remarkably tender,-

"Hugh, my boy, the distance is long between the twenty-first and the
fiftieth mile-stones on the journey of life. Heaven grant, when you
shall have reached the latter, you may look back over a brighter
pathway than I do to-night!"

Then, as the young man passed, he murmured to himself "If I could
but have had just such a son as he!"

He did not see, though there was one who did, a woman's form glide
away in the dim light, her eyes gleaming with malignant fire.




CHAPTER IV

A TERRIBLE AWAKENING


For some time after his guests had retired, Hugh Mainwaring remained
outside, walking up and down in the starlight, apparently absorbed
in thought. When at length he passed into the house, he met his
secretary coming out for a solitary smoke.