Lillian that no one observed her at that moment, for she grew pale and
sank into a chair, exclaiming below her breath, "It is Paul--_my_ Paul!"

She recognized him instantly, in spite of increased height, a dark
moustache, and martial bearing. It was Paul, older, graver, handsomer,
but still "her Paul," as she called him, with a flush of pride and
delight as she watched him, and felt that of all there she knew him best
and loved him most. For the childish affection still existed, and this
discovery added a tinge of romance that made it doubly dangerous as well
as doubly pleasant.

Will he know me? she thought, glancing at a mirror which reflected a
slender figure with bright hair, white arms, and brilliant eyes; a
graceful little head, proudly carried, and a sweet mouth, just then very
charming, as it smiled till pearly teeth shone between the ruddy lips.

I'm glad I'm not ugly, and I hope he'll like me, she thought, as she
smoothed the golden ripples on her forehead, settled her sash, and shook
out the folds of her airy dress in a flutter of girlish excitement.
"I'll pretend not to know him, when we meet, and see what he will do,"
she said, with a wicked sense of power; for being forewarned she was
forearmed, and, fearing no betrayal of surprise on her own part, was
eager to enjoy any of which he might be guilty.

Leaving her nook, she joined a group of young friends and held herself
prepared for the meeting. Presently she saw Maud and Mrs. Langdon
approaching, evidently intent on presenting the hero to the heiress.

"Mr. Talbot, Miss Trevlyn," said the lady. And looking up with a
well-assumed air of indifference, Lillian returned the gentleman's bow