It was also evident that Graydon was too much occupied with his fair companion to look far away.

He complied, thinking, meantime, "Some day I may register for her again, and then my name will suffice for us both." The smile which followed the thought brought out the best lines of his handsome profile to poor Madge, who permitted no phase of expression on that face to escape her scrutiny.
So true was the clairvoyance of her intense interest that she guessed the thought which was so agreeable to him, and she grew paler still.
Mr.Muir hastened to greet his wife, and then Graydon recognized her.
He came at once and kissed her in his accustomed hearty way.

Madge stood near, unnoted, unrecognized.
"Where's Madge?
Isn't she well enough to come down ?" he asked, his eyes following Miss Wildmere, who had entered the parlor, which she must cross to reach her room beyond.

Mrs.Muir began to laugh immoderately, and Mr.Muir followed his brother's eyes with vexation.
Graydon was on the _qui vive_ instantly, and Madge drew a step nearer and began to smile.

For once the punctilious and elegant Graydon forgot his courtesy, and looked at Madge in utter astonishment--an expression, however, which passed swiftly into admiration and delight.
"Madge!" he exclaimed, seizing both her hands.