John grew more and more restless as the days passed and Julia did not come. He had one letter from her, but she gave no hint as to when he might expect her home. He wrote at once and urged her to come as soon as she could, and, receiving no reply to this, fell to calling on the Major, hoping thus to hear something definite. She sent her father a message every day, but it was always about the sick friend, who had taken a slight turn for the better, but would not consent for Julia to leave her.
It was the night before the day upon which the fair began, about eleven o'clock, when Glenning, sitting in his office with a worried face, received a call from the home of a wealthy merchant. He arose at once, and went to the house. It was a deep chest cold contracted by one of the members of the family which he had to treat, but it was close onto midnight when he came into the front hall for his hat. The servant who was waiting to let him out stepped forward and said that there was an old friend in the parlor who would like to speak to him. Slightly annoyed at this further demand upon his time, John opened the door indicated, and entered the room.
A shiver as of the pangs of death enveloped him on the instant. He stood rigidly erect, his face growing whiter and whiter until the pallor which rested upon it was ghastly. The room was a sumptuous apartment; a bower of luxury. The furnishings were rich, but chaste, and blended harmoniously, creating an effect which soothed. A lamp burned on a table in the center of the room; a beautiful thing, glowing like some rare, exotic flower. The thick, ruby-tinted shade smothered the flame, and diffused it rosily. There was the odour of perfume in the air; not grossly rank, and offensive, but subtly elusive; a delicate hint of some rare and sense-numbing attar. She stood a little to one side of the table. She was rather low, but superbly shaped. Her hands were behind her, with fingers loosely laced. The lamp-glow encompassed her as in a subdued flame. It fell upon her burnished hair--dull gold and copper blent, and sank trembling into the depths of her eyes. Each feature was perfect, or so nearly perfect that the chastening light made it appear such. She was smiling.