"Certainly. I have absolute proof of it. Now, something has to be done!"

And so it was that the promising young lawyer, Samuel W. Rossiter, Jr.,
was sent northward into the Adirondacks one hot summer day with
instructions to be tactful but thorough. He had never seen Mrs. Wharton,
nor had he seen Havens. There was no time to look up these rather
important details, for he was off to intercept her at the little station
from which one drove by coach to the quiet summer hotel among the clouds.
She was starting the same afternoon. He found himself wondering whether
this petted butterfly of fashion had ever seen him, and, seeing him, had
been sufficiently interested to inquire, "Who is that tall fellow with the
light hair?" It would be difficult to perform the duties assigned to him
if either she or Havens knew him for what he was. His pride would have
been deeply wounded if he had known that Grover & Dickhut recommended him
to Wharton as "obscure."

"They say she is a howling beauty as well as a swell," reflected
Rossiter, as the miles and minutes went swinging by. "And that's something
to be thankful for. One likes novelty, especially if it's feminine. Well,
I'm out for the sole purpose of saving a million or so for old Wharton,
and to save as much of her reputation as I can besides. With the proof in
hand the old duffer can scare her out of any claim against his bank
account, and she shall have the absolute promise of 'no exposure' in
return. Isn't it lovely? Well, here's Albany. Now for the dinky road up to
Fossingford Station. I have an hour's wait here. She's coming on the
afternoon train and gets to Fossingford at eleven-ten to-night. That's a
dickens of a time for a young woman to be arriving anywhere, to say
nothing of Fossingford."

Loafing about the depot at Albany, Rossiter kept a close lookout for Mrs.