“ Why, yes, indeed I am,” he replied excitedly.

“ My name is Maude Rivers. Then I believe you are here to meet me, Mr. Cameron.”

“ I- er- yes, of course.” The mature bachelor solicitor recovered his aplomb and strode forward to seize the valises from the porter, whom he generously tipped. The latter hurried back to the coach and clambered aboard, just as the engineer tooted the whistle as a kind of farewell to the rustic village of Rushton.

Charles Cameron felt as if he were transported to another world. Beside him was one of the most beautiful young girls he had ever seen in all his life. She was of medium height, perhaps five feet five inches or a quarter more. Her form had that ripe voluptuousness without excess which can be found in an adolescent female of good breeding. Her skin was a satiny pink, with a gloss and freshness such as one might find on a freshly picked peach. Her eyes were widely spaced, enormous, and a translucent blue, appealing and poignant and utterly feminine. Her forehead was rounded and pure, her nose dangerously snub, with just a saucy hint of a flair to it, while her mouth was ripe, sweet and full It was a heart- shaped face of character and alluring feminine mystery.

“ Then you must be Douglas Rivers’ daughter,” Charles Cameron said rather astonishedly. “ You see, I had Mrs. Beddlington’ s letter, but I somehow thought my old friend had led me to believe that you were still in the nursery.”

“ Oh, fie, no indeed, Mr. Cameron,” Maude Rivers protested. She blushed divinely. Charles Cameron’ s keen eye swiftly rode over her face and form, and this blush assured him that she was of a sanguine temperament which augured well for his own sensual interests. It was not without a certain foreknowledge that he found himself enraptured by the sensuous charms of this golden- haired young girl, for after all she had been entrusted to him by a dying man, and he was honor bound to give her every tender care and aid in this her hour of great loss.