when mrs. gaston and miss trevennon were driving along the avenue next morning, the former said abruptly, “why didn’t you tell me of your cousin’s visit?”

“oh, i didn’t see you when you came in, you know,” answered margaret evasively. “who told you?”

“louis: and i gathered from certain indications that there had been something unpleasant in this meeting. i didn’t ask him to explain it to me, and i don’t ask you. i hate explanations. i have always foreseen that a certain amount of clashing was inevitable between you and louis. you are both very well in your ways, but your ways are very different and not very reconcilable. i am very sorry anything of the sort happened; but i don’t let it prey upon my mind, and i hope you will not either.”

“oh no,” said margaret; “it was nothing very important. mr. gaston was rude to alan when he first came in, but he atoned for it as far as he could afterward.”

at this moment a handsome drag containing two gentlemen and a liveried servant was seen approaching, and, as it came up to them, one of the gentlemen recognized margaret with a bow and a smile.

“there’s alan now!” said margaret. “i wonder who the gentleman is, who is driving.”

“it’s young lord waring,” said mrs. gaston, with animation. “he is attached to the british legation—the minister’s nephew, i believe. and so that was alan decourcy! what a charming young man! i wonder how louis could be rude to a man like that.”

it was margaret’s usual habit to pass over such remarks as this from cousin eugenia, as she was convinced of the fruitlessness of argument in her case; but this speech touched her on such a sore point that she could not help saying, in rather keen tones:

“a man who could be rude to any one whomsoever, must be somewhat difficult to count upon, i should think. he must be often puzzled to decide whom to treat civilly and whom to snub.”

“oh, there you go, with your high-flown southern notions,” retorted mrs. gaston, with imperturbable good-humor. “you’re your father’s own child! but we must have this elegant young man to dinner. do you happen to know if he is engaged for this evening?”

“no,” said margaret, “i didn’t hear him say.”

“he will probably call during the day.”

“no, he will not,” said margaret, decidedly. “he told me he should not see me again before going to baltimore. but he is to make arrangements for me to go over for a little visit soon, and i shall see him then.”

“nonsense! he’s to come and see you at my house, and he’s to make friends with us all. louis has been in the wrong, and he shall be made to see it. leave that to me. i shall write young decourcy a note as soon as i get home; and you shall write too, and endorse my invitation.”

margaret felt very anxious that her cousin should come and dine at the gastons’, but she seriously doubted his willingness to do so. despite his perfect courtesy, there had been something in his manner toward louis gaston that made it clear that he did not desire to improve the latter’s acquaintance, and she wanted him to see that in the interview he had had with gaston he had seen louis at his worst, and to realize that he had a better side. and, on the other hand, she wanted the gastons to see alan decourcy as a specimen of a southern gentleman, who not only possessed, by inheritance, all the instincts and traditions that she clung to and respected, but who, in addition to these, had had sufficient contact with the world to get rid of that colossal belief in himself and his own methods and manners, as the only commendable ones, which she felt to be one of the chief failings of her countrymen. she had been too long accustomed to the arrogant assumption that a southern man had better take the wrong way in any issue than learn the right way from a yankee, not to rejoice in the prospect of presenting to her friends a young southerner who was really enlightened, and who, if he loved his own land best, did so because he had compared it with others, and not because he was ignorant of everything beyond it.

but when mrs. gaston had despatched her note, inviting mr. decourcy to dine with them that evening at six, and there came a response regretting that a previous engagement for dinner prevented his accepting her invitation, mrs. gaston was quite provoked about it, and when they were at dinner she confided her disappointment to her husband and his brother.

“i called on him at the arlington, this morning,” said louis, “but he was out.”

“yes, we met him,” said mrs. gaston. “he was driving with lord waring.”

margaret felt a little throb of gratification, as her cousin made this announcement, of which she was deeply ashamed the next instant. “i am getting the most horrid ideas into my head,” she said to herself; “what a little snob i should have felt myself two months ago, to be filled with vulgar elation at the thought of alan decourcy being seen driving with a lord! it’s perfectly humiliating!” but all the same, the satisfaction remained.

“i wonder where he is going to dine,” mrs. gaston went on, presently. “he will call, of course, in acknowledgment of my invitation, and when he does, margaret, you must ask him.”

the next morning he did call, and mrs. gaston and margaret were at home to receive him. margaret asked him, in the course of their talk, where he had dined the day before, and convicted herself a second time of snobbishness by the pleasure she felt in hearing him answer:

“at the british legation. the minister happens to be an old acquaintance, and waring and i were great chums at one time. by-the-way, he was, for some reason, rather struck with you, daisy. he was with me when i met you driving yesterday, you remember. i told him you were a pet cousin of mine, and it may have been on that account that he asked me to bring him to call upon you.”

“i hope you will do so,” mrs. gaston said. “we should be glad to see him.”

there was no under-bred eagerness in her tones as she said it, but margaret suspected that there might be a little in her heart, and she was not sorry when decourcy answered, merely:

“thank you; you’re very kind,” and then changed the subject by saying:

“i picked up a little present for you, when i was in naples, margaret. i unpacked it this morning and will send it to you.”

a few minutes after this he took leave, having made on both ladies an extremely good impression, which mrs. gaston owned to, in voluble phrases, and which margaret concealed under a very calm exterior.

a day or two later alan called again, and brought with him lord waring, who proved to be a little dull. he was shy and constrained in manner and hampered by a certain gawkiness which decourcy’s exquisite ease of breeding made the more apparent. in spite of all this, however, there was something rather distinguished in the young foreigner, a sincerity and simplicity that stamped him as a man of worth, and a commanding self-security that was as far removed from self-sufficiency as possible.

it was arranged between miss trevennon and her cousin that they were to go to baltimore in a few days, and it was not until he rose to take leave that he put into her hands a box, which he told her contained the little present he had spoken of.

as soon as the two gentlemen had gone, margaret tore open the parcel with the eagerness of a girl to whom presents are somewhat rare, and discovered, in a beautiful little mosaic box, an antique silver chatelaine of the most rare and exquisite workmanship. there was a small watch, and other richly chased pendents, and the whole thing was pretty enough to delight any girl alive, even in the absence of a just appreciation of its value. cousin eugenia, however, being thoroughly initiated in all such matters, was handling and examining it with a depth of appreciation that almost brought tears to her eyes.

“why, margaret, it is a superb present,” she exclaimed; “a veritable antique, such as not one woman in a thousand is lucky enough to possess. you must let me show it to mrs. norman; she is continually flaunting hers in peoples’ faces, and it doesn’t compare with this. i should say it is quite modern beside this. just look at these clasps. the watch is not so antique, but the chains and clasps are wonderful.”

margaret, as she looked on and listened, could scarcely conceal the amusement she felt. she had often before this had reason to observe the almost solemn emotion with which cousin eugenia was wont to regard certain articles of great luxuriousness or magnificence. she had seen her stirred to the soul by a plush portière, and almost tearful at the mere recollection of a french costume. appreciation was one thing, but this was another. it transcended mere appreciation, and seemed, in some way, to be tinctured with the heroic.

“what an æsthete you would have made, cousin eugenia, if only the proper influences had been brought to bear!” said margaret, laughing. “i can fancy you speaking, in awed and hushed accents, of a strange and mysterious color, or a significant and subtle bit of drapery. you consider yourself unemotional, but you have depths which may be stirred. it takes a silver chatelaine of a rare order to compass it, however, or something as imposing. i have to thank you for enlightening me as to the value of alan’s gift. if i tell him you wept upon it, it may compensate in some measure for my philistinism.”

“he must have taken great care in the selection of this present for you,” mrs. gaston said. “he admires you very much, margaret. i begin to wonder what it means.”

margaret laughed gayly.

“it means nothing whatever,” she said; “for goodness’ sake, don’t get up any absurd notion about alan decourcy and me. it’s a brand-new idea.”

“to you it may be—not to him. he has a way of watching you that means something. a careful, scrutinizing interest in all you do is observable, and often it changes into those quiet signs of approbation, which mean so much in a man like that. i shall be prepared for a prompt surrender, so don’t be afraid of startling me if you have anything to communicate from baltimore. he told me the other day, that he had reached an eminently marriageable age, and was dreadfully afraid of passing beyond it. he also said that he much preferred to marry one of his own countrywomen; and i believe that is what brings him home.”

margaret gave an amused attention to her cousin’s speculations, after which they fell to talking of the proposed visit to baltimore, which cousin eugenia acquiesced in only on condition that it should be of but one week’s duration, and that margaret should return to washington for christmas. this she agreed to do, resolving, if she found it desirable, to arrange for another visit before returning to the south.