"He has arrived," said Gwen, coming in with her hands full of wild roses a few days later.
"He? Who?" asked her aunt.
"The millionaire, or at least the half of one, for they say he is worth not less than half a million."
"I never heard of him," returned Miss Elliott. "What's his name?"
"He is one Cephas Mitchell, age a little over thirty I should judge; height five feet nine, or thereabouts; complexion, uncertain; eyes, pale greenish blue; hair, mouse-color; weight, I don't believe I can give that, but it must be less than yours, for he is very skinny-looking. He hails from Boston, and is a steel something-or-other, we'll say a steel magnate."
"Your details appear to be very exact. Where did you meet him?"
"Down at the post-office. He is a guest of the ladies Gray. He was with Miss Henrietta. I think he is a relative. It was while he was buying fishing-tackle or something, that I received my information."
"I wonder what he is doing up here."
"He came with his mother, who is also a guest of the Grays. That makes seven women in the house, including the servants."
"Well, were you impressed by the young man?"