mr. somers came promptly at eleven, the next morning, and margaret received him in the drawing-room alone. she had given orders that she should be denied to any early visitors who might be coming in, and was resolved that she would be just and patient with the young man, though she was also resolved that the nature of their relationship should be definitely settled and understood, during this interview.

they had not been seated long when margaret heard louis gaston’s voice speaking to a servant in the hall. she looked up in surprise, as she had supposed him to be at his office an hour ago. he came in, with his overcoat on, and his hat in his hand, and when margaret presented him to mr. somers he cordially offered him his disengaged hand. margaret was struck with the contrast between the two general exteriors, as she had been the night before, but she was not a whit ashamed of her old friend. she told herself that no man with eyes in his head could fail to see that somers was a gentleman, and, for the rest, it did not matter.

“i learned from my sister-in-law,” said louis, addressing mr. somers, “that miss trevennon was receiving a visit from a friend from home; and mrs. gaston has authorized me to come and engage you for dinner to-day, if you have no other appointment. i hope you will be able to come.”

margaret, glancing at mr. somers, was distressed to see that he looked decidedly ungracious. she saw, by his manner, that he suspected that this smooth-spoken yankee was going to patronize him, though nothing could have been franker and less patronizing than gaston’s whole bearing.

“thank you,” mr. somers answered, rather curtly, “i have another engagement.”

louis expressed the hope that he would give them another day while he was in washington, and asked for his address, saying that he would call upon him.

mr. somers, having a hazy impression that to hand his card was the proper thing, and not wishing to be outdone in savoir-faire, fumbled in his pocket and produced a tumbled envelope, out of which he drew a visiting-card of imposing proportions. margaret glanced at it quickly, and saw, to her horror, that it was printed! in the midst of a wide expanse of tinted pasteboard was inscribed c. r. somers, in aggressive german type. she smiled to herself, as she made a swift mental comparison between this card and another—a pure-white little affair, with mr. louis gaston engraved on it in quiet script. she knew well what gaston was thinking of charley, as he waited quietly while the latter wrote his address and handed him the cumbrous card with rather a bad grace, and she knew as well what charley, as he scribbled off the street, and number of his friend’s house, was thinking of mr. gaston. it was all very absurd, and she could not help feeling and perhaps looking amused.

louis lingered to make a few more friendly overtures, but these were so loftily received by mr. somers that he soon found it best to take leave, and, with a pleasant “au revoir” to both, he turned and left the room.

“a french-talking, phrase-turning dandy!” said charley, as soon as his back was turned. “i wonder that you can tolerate such a man, margaret.”

“it would be interesting to ascertain his opinion of you,” returned margaret. “if he puts no higher estimate on your conduct on this occasion than i do, perhaps it is as well for us to remain in ignorance of it.”

“and do you suppose i care one penny for his opinion? if you do, you are much mistaken. i was obliged to give my address when he asked for it, but i hope he’ll not trouble himself to call. i have no desire to improve his acquaintance.”

“and yet you might find it not only pleasant but profitable,” said margaret. “there are many things that you might, with great benefit, learn from him.”

“upon my word, margaret, this is a little too much,” exclaimed somers. “you have abandoned and repudiated your own people in a very short while, when you can talk of my learning from a conceited yankee fop like that.”

“it isn’t the first time i’ve advised you to take lessons from the yankees,” said margaret; “and as to mr. gaston’s being conceited, i really think he’s less so than you are, charley, though he knows much more. as to his being a yankee—well, yes, he is a yankee, as we should say, and he’s a very capable and accomplished one. and as to the third point, of his being a dandy, you know very well he is simply a remarkably well-dressed man, whose appearance in your heart you admire, in spite of your tall talking. but what’s the use of all this? it isn’t dress, nor nationality, nor deportment even, that makes the man. superficially, you two are very unlike, but i think the discrepancy as to your real natures is by no means so great. you are a pair of true and honorable gentlemen at heart—at least, i believe mr. gaston to be such, and i know you are, charley.”

she spoke in a tone of great gentleness for she knew that, before this interview ended, she must say words which would bruise his poor heart cruelly, and it was a kind and honest heart, which had long cherished for her a true and steadfast devotion by degrees she led him on to a quieter mood, and spoke to him gravely and earnestly of their future lives—his and hers—which, as she gently tried to show him, must needs lie apart. he had heard her utter these sad words before, but there was a difference—an absolute resolve in looks and tones that compelled him to realize that this time they were final. and yet she had never been so gentle and so kind.

“i think too highly of you, charley,” she said, when their interview was drawing to a close, “to believe that you will let this feeling for me ruin your life. there is so much a man may do! the very thought of it is tantalizing to a woman sometimes. oh, charley, be in earnest. it is all you lack. do something—no matter what, so it is work, and do it faithfully and well. i think that, in itself, would make you almost happy. but don’t think about happiness. indeed, i think that does not signify so very much. think only of filling your place in the world and doing your duty to god and man, and happiness will come of itself.”

when she sent him from her at last, the hope which had until now lived in his bosom was quite, quite dead, never to revive again; and yet, with the relinquishment of that hope, a new life seemed to spring up within him, which made him resolve, before he left her presence, that he would win her approval though he could never win her love. he knew he could not feel that he had ever possessed her entire approbation, and it was well worth striving for—better, he said to himself, as many another good man has said, in those first moments of sad renunciation, than another woman’s love.

that evening charley somers formed a sudden resolution. he would not go back to the south and the old stagnating life, which had already made its sad impress upon his mind and character. he would set out at once to south america, to join some resolute fellows who were friends of his, who had gone to seek their fortunes, and had often urged him to come to them. he did not see margaret again, but wrote her a manly note of farewell, over which she shed tears enough to have recalled him from the ends of the earth, if, by ill-luck, he could have seen them.

it happened that louis gaston, chancing to meet her on her way to her room with this letter, which she had just been reading, open in her hand, saw her tearful eyes and pale, distressed face; he further noted traces of weeping that would have escaped a superficial observer, when she appeared at dinner an hour later. he could not help associating these signs with mr. somers, and when he took occasion to mention the latter’s name, in speaking to mrs. gaston after dinner, he was scarcely surprised when she informed him that she had heard, through margaret, that mr. somers had already left for south america, to be gone indefinitely.

“he goes to seek his fortune,” said mrs. gaston; “therefore i say his return is indefinite.”

“and if he finds it,” said louis gaston to himself, “and the girl he loves consents to share it with him, a man might well envy him. and if she consents not, what will the fortune avail him? it may be that she has already consented! most likely the sweet pledge has been given, and he goes to seek his fortune with the knowledge that her hopes and fears are entwined about him. what mightn’t a man accomplish with such a reward as his in view?”

these reflections passed through his mind, as he sat quietly on one side of the room watching miss trevennon as she sat talking to his brother, only her fair, sweet profile turned toward him, and a slightly distressed look on her face, which his searching eyes alone discovered.