"I don't say that. I have no doubt it is all right, and I know your father will be pleased to see you."

"I should think so! The idea of anything else! You know I am the apple of his eye!"

"Yes, I know that," remarks Southmead decidedly.

"Very well, then," returns Miss Travenion; "will you be kind enough to get me a letter of credit on California and the West for--for twenty thousand dollars."

This amount for a two or three months' pleasure trip makes Lawrence open his eyes, and the lawyer gives a little deprecating shrug of the shoulders.

"Oh, I don't mean to spend it _all_," cries Erma. "I am not so extravagant as that. Still, it might be convenient. I might want to buy something in the West. Please get it by to-morrow for me."

"Not later, any way, than the day after," interjects Mrs. Livingston.

"It is impossible to put off our trip."

"Oh, it had all been decided before you saw me?" laughs Southmead.

"Certainly. We didn't propose to have any objection made to our taking Erma with us on our trip," says Mrs. Livingston, leaving Mr. Ferdie and Miss Amory, and placing a plump arm round Miss Travenion's waist.

The party have all now risen, apparently ready to leave, and Lawrence and Southmead are compelled to say "Good evening."

As he departs, however, Harry astonishes Miss Travenion. She is a little in advance of her party, and offers him her hand cordially, saying, "Were we not in disorder on account of our preparations for departure, I should ask you to come and see me, Captain Lawrence."

"As it is," answers the young man, "I hope to see you in the West."

"Ah, you expect to be there?"

"Yes; my headquarters must be in Salt Lake for the next month or two."

"Why, _we_ shall be there also," cries Erma. "You shall show me over your city."

"Excuse me, I am not a Mormon!" answers Lawrence grimly, biting the end of his moustache.

"Oh, of course not! I--I beg your pardon. Yes; I remember now--that awful sect live there--" stammers Miss Travenion. "You'll forgive my ignorance, won't you?" Her eyes have a playful pleading in them that makes her judge very mild.

"On one condition!" he answers eagerly: "that you surely come to Salt Lake."

"Certainly," answers Miss Penitent; "it is there or in Ogden or somewhere about the Rocky Mountains I hope to meet my father."

"I also hope to meet your father some day," replies Harry, in a tone that astonishes the girl, for her beautiful eyes have made him forget he has only met her ten minutes.

She raises these to his inquiringly, and what she sees makes her cheeks grow red. A cordial grip upon her fingers is emphasizing this rapid gentleman's speech.

Miss Travenion draws her hand hastily from his; then says with thoroughbred coldness and _hauteur_, "Perhaps. Good evening!" turns her pretty back upon him and begins to converse with Mrs. Livingston and her party as if no such being as Harry Storey Lawrence existed upon this earth.

A moment after the Westerner finds himself beside Southmead strolling up Fifth Avenue, _en route_ for his hotel.

"I'll go with you as far as the Fifth Avenue," remarks the lawyer.

"There may be some telegrams awaiting you on your mining business."

"Delighted," says the young man. Then he breaks out hurriedly: "How the d.i.c.kens does Miss Travenion, who is apparently a b.u.t.terfly of New York fashion, have a father who, she says, was a contractor on the Union Pacific Railway? You, as her trustee, ought to know."

"Yes--I know!" returns Southmead. Then after a second's pause of contemplation he continues: "And I'll tell you--it may save you getting a wild idea in your head, young man. Only don't look romantic, because the young lady we are discussing is half-way engaged to another, Mr.

Oliver Ogden Livingston."

"Half-way engaged," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.es Harry with a sigh. Then he says suddenly, a look of determination coming into his eyes: "Half-way is sometimes a long distance from the winning post," and lapses into silence, smoking his cigar in a nervous but savage manner, while the lawyer continues his conversation.

"Miss Erma Travenion's history is rather a curious one. Her father is an old friend of mine. Her mother was an old friend of mine." This last with a slight sigh of recollection. "Both came of families who have from colonial times occupied leading positions in Manhattan society. Nearly twenty-five years ago, Ralph Harriman Travenion married Ella Travers Schuyler, one of the prettiest girls in the Manhattan set of New York society. Four years after, the young lady we are discussing came into the world. When she was about ten, her mother died, and her father concentrated his affection, apparently, on his only daughter. He was a man of very large fortune, a member of the leading clubs, on the governing committee of one or two of them, a man about town and a swell among swells.--But perhaps to forget his wife, whom I know he loved; during the sea of speculation that came with the Rebellion, he entered largely into dealing in stocks and gold, in an easy-going sybaritic kind of a way--and Wall Street made almost a wreck of what had once been a very fine fortune. This blow to his pocket was a blow to his pride. He could not endure to live in diminished style among the people who had known him as millionnaire, aristocrat, and _bon vivant_. Shortly after he sold his horses, yacht, villa in Newport, house in town, in short, his whole extensive establishment, and placing his daughter, who was about fourteen years of age at that time, at Miss Hines' Fashionable Academy, in Gramercy Park, he went West.

"When he did so, I thought it was wholly from pride. Now I have become satisfied that it was in the hope of making another fortune, so that when she arrived at young ladyhood, Erma Travenion could a.s.sume the position in New York society to which she had been born."

"What makes you think this?" asks Lawrence hurriedly.

"Her father's actions since that time. You see, the Travenions and Livingstons had always been great friends, second cousins in fact, and it had been a kind of family matter and understanding that when Erma grew up, she should marry Mr. Oliver Ogden Livingston, who was then but a boy."

"A--ah! He is the son of the lady we met this evening!"

"Of course!" says the lawyer sharply. "It had been mutually understood between the fathers of the two children that each should settle what was considered in those days a most enormous sum upon their children, that is, one million dollars. The two fathers fondly hoped and expected in those days of smaller fortunes that this would put the young couple on the very top of New York society. When Travenion went West, Oliver's father was still alive. What the interview between the two men was, I do not know; but shortly afterwards, Livingston settled his one million dollars upon his son, and during the succeeding year died. As Mrs.

Livingston was very ambitious for her son to make what is called a grand match, it was generally supposed the compact would come to nothing, when, some three years later, in 1868, Mr. Travenion returned from the West and settled on his daughter three hundred thousand dollars, making the Union Trust Company of New York and myself co-trustees. One year after that he again made his appearance here and settled two hundred thousand dollars more, and only eight months ago he once more returned and deposited five hundred thousand in addition, completing the sum of one million dollars, which the Union Trust Company and myself hold as co-trustees for his daughter. One half of the income from this is to be paid to Erma Travenion until she is twenty-five or her marriage. In case of her marriage before that time or upon her arrival at the age of twenty-five, we are to pay the full dividends of this one million dollar investment to the young lady, and at the age of thirty, we are to make the princ.i.p.al over to her, subject to her sole control, use and bequest."

"I am sorry you told me this," says Harry, a trace of agitation in his eyes, and a slight tremble on his moustachioed lip.

"Sorry? Why?" asks the lawyer, turning and looking at the young man.

The answer he gets astonishes him.

"Because I mean to marry her," says the Westerner determinedly, "and I would sooner have a fortune equal to that of my bride; perhaps sooner have her with nothing."

"You are a very extraordinary young man, then," comments Southmead. "But I think her father would not care about her marrying any one except Oliver Ogden Livingston."

"I don't imagine any father would care about seeing his daughter marry that young man I saw at supper," remarks Lawrence, contemplatively, between puffs of his cigar.

"And why not?"

"Because I do not think he is a man, anyway."

"Still, I think Ralph Travenion wishes his daughter to marry Oliver Livingston, because he has settled his million on her."

Here Harry astonishes the lawyer again. He says shortly: "Might not Ralph Travenion have some other reason for settling the million dollars on his daughter?"

"By Jove!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.es Southmead in astonishment. "What do you mean?"

"I don't mean anything except the suggestion," remarks the young man.

"But here we are in the Fifth Avenue," and the two stride into that great hostelry together, and go to the office, where the clerk says, "Captain Lawrence, a telegram for you." After a glance at its address Harry tears it open, and with a suppressed exclamation pa.s.ses the despatch to his companion.

"Aha, as I thought," remarks Southmead, glancing over the message. "The Zion's Co-operative Mining Inst.i.tution has brought suit for part of your Mineral Hill property. Unless you compromise, this will delay the English sale."

"Yes, this takes me back to Utah at once," says the young man. Then he adds with a laughing sigh: "I need that five hundred thousand dollars, or rather my share of it, as soon as possible."

"Ah! But why this hurry?"