The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. "Tell me, what did they call you?" "Well, the old Kanaka cook used to call me the Golden One, but the natives called me the Dawn Pearl. Everything proclaimed the mischievous propensities of the recent occupants of the chamber. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. He talked very little and rather absently. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. This business of love is the supreme affair in life, it is the woman’s one event and crisis that makes up for all her other restrictions, and I cower—as we all cower—with a blushing and paralyzed mind until it overtakes me!. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. She was pensive and thoughtful.
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