his foot from off a cushion, and rose with some little difficulty, but
having gained his feet, his bearing was erect and soldier-like, and
his courtesy perfect, although toward Mrs. Mayburn it was tinged with
the gallantry of a former generation. Some brief explanations
followed, and then Major St. John turned upon Graham the dark eyes
which his daughter had inherited, and which seemed all the more
brilliant in contrast with his frosty eyebrows, and said genially, "It
is very kind of you to be willing to aid in beguiling an old man's
tedium." Turning to his daughter he added a little querulously, "There
must be a storm brewing, Grace," and he drew in his breath as if in
pain.

"Does your wound trouble you to-night, papa?" she asked gently.

"Yes, just as it always does before a storm."

"It is perfectly clear without," she resumed. "Perhaps the room has
become a little cold. The evenings are still damp and chilly;" and she
threw two or three billets of wood on the open fire, kindling a blaze
that sprang cheerily up the chimney.

The room seemed to be a combination of parlor and library, and it
satisfied Graham's ideal of a living apartment. Easy-chairs of various
patterns stood here and there and looked as if constructed by the very
genius of comfort. A secretary in the corner near a window was open,
suggesting absent friends and the pleasure of writing to them amid
such agreeable surroundings. Again Graham queried, prompted by the
peculiar influences that had gained the mastery on this tranquil but
eventful evening, "Will Miss St. John ever sit there penning words
straight from her heart to me?"