But you better come right up.

Madam will be wondering." She followed the old man up the velvet-shod stairs that gave back no sound from footfall, and pondered as she went.

Then that was her father, that boy with the beautiful face and the heavy wavy hair tossed back from his forehead, and the haughty, imperious, don't-care look.

And here was where he had lived.

Here amid all this luxury.
Like a flash came the quick contrast of the home in which he had died, and a great wave of reverence for her father rolled over her.