"Fit to dine with a queen," answered the older man, with a smile. "How soon can you dress for dinner, Gray?"
"That depends on who is giving the dinner."
"Some people you like. I found the note here when I came in a little after five. We have an hour in which to get over there. Can you be ready?"
"Do you go security for the affair?" asked Graydon.
"Certainly. You have been there, my boy, and I've not heard you complain."
"You mean over at—-"
"Yes, that's where I mean," said the other, breaking in quietly.
"I think I can be ready in ten minutes, father."
While he was dressing, his father sat alone and stared reflectively at the small blue gas blaze in the grate. A dark, grim smile unconsciously came over his face, the inspiration of a triumphant joy. Twice he read the dainty note that met him on his return from the office.
"What changes time can make in woman!" he mused; "and what changes a woman can make in time! For nearly a year I've waited for this note. I knew it would come—it was bound to come. Graydon has had everything up to this time, while I have waited patiently in the background. Now, it is my turn."