Kate Danton | Page 3

oriel window, through which the
rainy twilight stole eerily enough, led to a baize door. The baize door
opened into a shorter corridor, terminated by a second door, the upper
half of glass. This was the door of a study, simply furnished, the walls

lined with book-shelves, surmounted by busts. Adjoining was a
bathroom, adjoining that a bedroom. Fires burned in all, and the
curtained windows commanded a wide western prospect of
flower-garden, waving trees, spreading fields, and the great St.
Lawrence melting into the low western sky.
"Mr. Richards ought to be very comfortable here," thought Grace. "It is
rather strange Ogden did not speak of him."
She went down stairs again and back to the dining-room. Eeny was
there, standing before the fire, her light shape and delicate face looking
fragile in the red fire-light.
"Oh, Grace," said she, "I have just sent Babette in search of you. There
is a visitor in the parlour for you."
"For me?"
"Yes, a gentleman; young, and rather handsome. I asked him who I
should say wished to see you, and--what do you think?--he would not
tell."
"No! What did he say?"
"Told me to mention to Miss Grace Danton that a friend wished to see
her. Mysterious, is it not?"
"Who can it be?" said Grace, thoughtfully. "What does this mysterious
gentleman look like, Eeny?"
"Very tall," said Eeny, "and very stately, with brown hair, and beard
and mustache--a splendid mustache, Grace! and beautiful, bright brown
eyes, something like yours. Very good-looking, very polite, and with
the smile of an angel. There you have him."
"I am as much at a loss as ever," said Grace, leaving the dining-room.
"This is destined to be an evening of arrivals I think."
She ran upstairs for the second time, and opened the parlour door. A

gentleman before the fire, in the seat Eeny had vacated, arose at her
entrance. Grace stood still an instant, doubt, amaze, delight, alternately
in her face; then with a cry of "Frank!" she sprang forward, and was
caught in the tall stranger's arms.
"I thought you would recognize me in spite of the whiskers," said the
stranger. "Here, stand off and let me look at you; let me see the changes
six years have wrought in my sister Grace."
He held her out at arm's length, and surveyed her smilingly.
"A little older--a little graver, but otherwise the same. My solemn
Gracie, you will look like your own grandmother at thirty."
"Well, I feel as if I had lived a century or two now. When did you
come?"
"From Germany, last week; from Montreal at noon."
"You have been a week in Montreal then?"
"With Uncle Roosevelt--yes."
"How good it seems to see you again, Frank. How long will you stay
here--in St. Croix?"
"That depends--until I get tired, I suppose. So Captain Danton and his
eldest daughter are here from England?"
"How did you learn that?"
"Saw their arrival in Montreal duly chronicled."
"What is she like, Grace?"
"Who?"
"Miss Kate Danton."

"I don't know. I expect them every moment; I should think they came
by the same train you did."
"Perhaps so--I rode second-class. I got talking to an old Canadian, and
found him such a capital old fellow, that I kept beside him all the way.
By-the-by, Grace, you've got into very comfortable quarters, haven't
you?"
"Yes, Danton Hall is a very fine place."
"How long is it you have been here?"
"Four years."
"And how often has the Captain been in that time?"
"Twice; but he has given up the sea now, and is going to settle down."
"I thought his eldest daughter was a fixture in England?"
"So did I," said Grace; "but the grandmother with whom she lived has
died, it appears; consequently, she comes to her natural home for the
first time. That is her picture."
Miss Danton's brother raised his handsome brown eyes to the exquisite
face, and took a long survey.
"She ought to be a beauty if she looks like that. Belle blonde, and I
admire blondes so much! do you know, Grace, I think I shall fall in
love with her?"
"Don't. It will be of no use."
"Why not? I am a Danton--a gentleman--a member of the learned
profession of medicine and not so bad-looking. Why not, Grace?"
He rose up as he said it, his brown eyes smiling. Not so bad-looking,
certainly. A fine-looking fellow, as he leaned against the marble mantel,
bronzed and bearded, and a thorough gentleman.

"It is all of no use," Grace said, with an answering smile. "Doctor
Danton's numberless perfections will be quite lost on the heiress of
Danton Hall. She is engaged."
"What a pity! Who is the lucky man?"
"Hon. Lieutenant Reginald Stanford, of Stanford Royals,
Northumberland, England, youngest son of