CHAPTER XVIII.
HERBERT COURTLAND IS A MAN WHO HAS LIVED WITH HONOR.
It was a long day.
Toward evening he recollected that he had to leave cards upon his host and hostess of the Monday previous, but it was past six o'clock when he found himself at the top of the steps of Mr.Ayrton's house.

Before his ring had been responded to a victoria drove up with Phyllis, and in a moment she was on the step beside him.
She looked radiant in the costume which she was wearing.

He thought he had never seen a lovelier girl--he was certain that he had never seen a better-dressed girl.

(Mr.Courtland was not clever enough to know that it is only the beautiful girls who seem well dressed in the eyes of men.) There was a certain frankness in her face that made it very interesting--the frankness of a child who looks into the face of the world and wonders at its reticence.

He felt her soft gray eyes resting upon his face, as she shook hands with him and begged him to go in and have tea with her.