[CHAPTER XIV.]
Neil Lowell had never looked better in his boy's attire than when he had completed his toilet for dinner that evening, and stood before the glass taking a last survey of himself, very much after the manner of a girl. Then he opened the door and went down-stairs.
As he entered the drawing-room, his first impression was that it was empty, but as he advanced into the room, he saw the form of a man leaning over a table upon which some rare etchings were carelessly tossed.
"It is 'Edith's cousin,' I suppose," he muttered with a smile.
The slight noise of the entrance attracted the stranger's attention, and he lifted his head.
Neil started; an hysterical cry rose to his lips, but before the guest had advanced he had recovered his perfect self-possession.
"You are Miss Edith's 'cousin,' I think," he said with a smile, advancing and extending his hand. "I don't suppose that Miss Alice intended us to meet in this fashion or she would have told me your name. I am Neil Lowell."
The gentleman paused, looking down upon the slight figure with a puzzled expression.
He took the extended hand in his as though half unconscious that he had done so, then pulling himself together, he said slowly: