“And doesn’t he want to be with her?” demanded Ann eagerly.

“Of course.  And, Ann, I shouldn’t ask for a better fellow than Everett is, only that I don’t want you to leave me right away.  Without you, Dear, I think I should die of the blue devils!”

“Do you want me to stay at home until you, too, get ready to marry?” Ann asked laughingly.  “I’m afraid I should never have a chance to help Everett make a home if you did; for you simply won’t like any of the girls I know.”

“I want to get well started in my profession before I think of marrying.  I am happy over the fact that I have been able to enter Vandecar’s law office.  He’s the strongest man in the state in his line, and it means New York for me some day.  Vandecar is even more powerful than Brimbecomb.”

“I’m glad for you, Horace, because it seems to me that you have an opportunity that few men have.  Nothing can ever keep you back!  And you are so very young, Dear!”

“No, nothing can keep me back now, Ann.  Sit down, do.”

“Not now, Dear; I’ll run away from you, and tell Everett that you will go to Dryden with us—­and I do hope that the weather will be fine!”

Ann tripped out, her heart light with contentment.  Her star of happiness had reached its zenith when Everett Brimbecomb had asked her to be his wife.  Rich in her own right, of the bluest blood in the state, soon to marry the man who had been her ideal since their childhood days, why should she not be happy?

After leaving Horace, Ann went to the side window and tapped upon it.  Receiving no response, she lifted the sash and called softly to her fiance.  Hearing her voice, Everett Brimbecomb appeared at the opposite window.  The girl’s heart thrilled with happiness as he smiled upon her.

“Run over a minute, Everett,” she called.

“All right, dear heart.”

His voice was so vibrantly low and rich that the girl experienced a feeling of thanksgiving as she stood waiting for him at the door.  When he came, the lovers went into the drawing-room, where a grate fire burned dim.

“Horace says he’ll go to Dryden, Everett,” Ann announced, “and I’m so glad!  I thought he might say that he was too busy.”

Everett smiled, slipped his arm about the girl’s waist, and for a moment she leaned against him like a frail, sweet flower.

Presently Ann noticed that a shadow had settled on her lover’s face.  Womanlike, she questioned him.

“Is there anything the matter, Dear?” she asked, drawing him to the divan.

“Nothing serious.  I’ve been talking with Father.”

“Yes?”

She waited for him to continue; but he sat silent, wrapped in thought for a long minute.  At last, however, he spoke gloomily: 

“Ann, I wish I knew who my own people were.”

“Aren’t you satisfied with those you have, Everett?” There was sweet reproof in the girl’s tones.