Part 46 (1/2)

”I'm not a ghost,” he cried. ”You look at me as if I had crept out of my grave.”

She looked again at the telegram. ”Why, David,” she began falteringly.

Then her face cleared. A glad smile broke over it, and both her hands were extended. ”It really _is_ you? I am not seeing visions? Yes, you are flesh and blood! You dear, dear David! I am _so_ glad to see you.

How does it happen that you are here? Where do you come from and--” She went on with the eagerness of a child, asking more questions than he could remember, much less answer. ”And how wonderfully you have grown up!”

”I have seen Christine,” he said eagerly. ”She is perfection--she is marvelous.”

”Seen her? Where? But we cannot talk here. We must have hours and hours all by ourselves. Come to my father's house to-night. We are living with him, you know. There is so much that we have to tell each other--all that has happened in the five long years.”

”I am here solely to remind you that the five years are ended, Mrs.

Braddock. Mahomet has come to the mountain, you see.”

Her face clouded. She glanced quickly through the window. His gaze followed hers. Christine and young Stanfield were driving away together in a hansom. He read her thoughts. ”I'll take my chances,” he remarked confidently.

”I know that she has not forgotten, David,” she said after a moment of deliberation, ”but--well, I will be frank with you. She has suddenly shot past my comprehension. It is the privilege of a girl to change her mind, you know, when she changes the length of her frocks.”

”You haven't changed, have you?” he asked bluntly. She stared. ”I?”

”I mean, you are still my champion?”

”Of course,” she replied readily.

”Then, as I said before, I'll take my chances with the rest. I'll not hold her to that girlhood bargain. That would be unfair. But, if you'll permit me, I'll go in and win her as she is to-day--if I can.”

She smiled at his ardor. ”I hope you may win, David. But you must win for yourself. Do not look to me for help. She must decide for herself.”

He did not refer to the young man who had taken her away in the cab.

Mrs. Braddock noted this and was not slow to divine the well-bred restraint that lay behind the omission.

”That was young Stanfield,” she observed. ”He is delightful. My father is devoted to him.”

David smiled. ”I hope to have the pleasure of meeting him soon.”

”You may meet to-night.”

If she expected to see a trace of annoyance in his face, she was disappointed. He gracefully confessed his interest in the prospective meeting.

”I shall be more than delighted to come,” he said.

”And I am glad he will be there to engage Christine's attention while I devote myself to you, Mrs. Braddock.”

”You nice boy!”

She extended her hand. ”I must not keep my father waiting out there.

You don't know how glad I am that you are here, David.” Suddenly a wave of red mounted to her cheek; an expression of utter loathing came into her deep eyes. In some alarm he glanced over his shoulder.

Colonel Grand was standing at the door through which she would have to pa.s.s. He was not looking at her, but his motive in placing himself there was only too plain.

”Confound him!” involuntarily fell from David's lips.