Berlin.  It had been a life full of activity, yet strangely solitary and dominated by dreams and imagination.  Now he realized that the most tangible thing to which he looked forward at home was a meeting with Mary Burton, and with the thought that tomorrow morning would bring the sky-line of Manhattan into view, a decided misgiving possessed him.  He had heretofore treated the thing half-humorously—­as a pleasant, but vague, dream.  It could no longer remain so.  He realized that it had been a definite enough dream to keep the door of his heart closed upon other women.  He must see her and if, after seeing her, his dream could no longer exist he knew that it would be to him and his life a serious matter.  A chance acquaintance of the voyage had known her and spoken of her.  He was an Englishman of title and a thoroughly likable fellow.  Somehow Edwardes fancied that this man’s own heart carried a scar and that he had sought to be more than a casual friend to Mary Burton—­and had failed.  So the American felt a delicacy in asking those questions which might have enlightened him.  Yet the talk that had passed between them had heightened his already keen impatience to see the girl with whom he had so strangely and intangibly fallen into an attitude which, in his own thoughts, was not unlike that of a lover.

For a time he would be very busy.  His duties as head of the banking house which had for generations borne a high and honorable name in large affairs would occupy him with strenuous activities.  The house of Edwardes and Edwardes stood as a pillar of conservatism in finance.  He meant that its splendid record should under his guidance suffer no loss of prestige or confidence.

Unlike the tigerish methods of the more modern school, from which sprang such spectacular figures as Hamilton Burton, there was in the older days a different conception of business—­and of that conception the firm of Edwardes and Edwardes was a worthy example.

The men who had founded it had recognized ideals and grave responsibilities beyond the importance of mere profits.  A deep pride in the honor upon which they had based their upbuilding had actuated them, and in none of the line was that pride stronger than in this new head who feared nothing save dishonor and prized nothing above integrity.

CHAPTER X

Mary Burton had not long been back from Europe when sealed windows and boarded entrances began to give a sepulchral blankness to the houses of the rich.  Society was leaving town, and for Mary Burton to remain when her set had gone would have been like reigning in an empty court, for already she had entered upon her dominion and her triumph was secure.  New York society had at first received the over-seas report of her great charm and loveliness with such sceptical indulgence as New York accords to any excellence alien to the purlieus of her own boroughs.

Now New York had seen her, claimed her as its own—­and capitulated.