"What is
supper to the witchery of such a night as this?"
"What would anything be to the witchery of such a girl as this, if
one were not fortified?" he thought. "This is not the comradeship of
a good fellow, as she promised. It is the society of a charming woman,
who is feminine in even her thoughts and modes of expression--who is
often strangely, bewilderingly beautiful in this changing light. When
we pass under the shadow of a tree her eyes shine like stars; when the
rays of the moon are full upon her face it is almost as pure and white
as when it was illumined by the electric flash. Did I not love another
woman, I could easily imagine myself learning to love her. Confound
it! I wish Stella had more of Madge's simple loftiness of character.
She would compel different business methods in her father. She would
work for him, suffer for him, but would not play diplomat. I like that
Arnault business to-night less than ever."
Mr. and Mrs. Muir were anxiously awaiting them on the piazza as they
trotted smartly up the avenue. "It's all right," cried Graydon.
"The horse has learned to know his mistress, and will give no more
trouble."
"I wish you had as much sense," growled Muir, in his mustache; then
added, aloud, "Come to supper.
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