OUTLAW AND LAWMAKER.

Otago Witness, Issue 2051, 15 June 1893, Page 39

OUTLAW AND LAWMAKER.

[Now First Published.]

By MRS CAMPBELL PRAED, Author of "The Head Station," " The Bond of Wedlock," "The Brother of the Shadow," "Passion and Policy," "Nadine," "An Australian Heroine," » And joint author with Mr Justin M'Cauthy of "The Ladies' Gallery," "The Bight Honourable," &c. Copyright, 1892, by Tillotson and Bon. Chapter IX. A Bush House Party. UNIMBAH was considered one of the most beautiful stations on the Luya. It was almost in the shadow of Mount Luya and of the twin peaks of the Bur-rum-Barolin Gorge. A misty cleft stretched up between the two into the dividing range, and seemed to Elsie's imagination the passage to a realm of mystery. Mrs Jem Hallett had the reputation of being a most accomplished hostess. She was always called Mrs Jem, because the elder Mrs Hallett, mother of the two brothers, was still alive and occupied a pretty cottage about a stone's throw from the big house. But the old lady was an invalid, and took no part in the domestic management of

the station, leaving everything to her clever daughter-in-law. Mrs Jem was very handsome — a little self-conscious, but that was hardly surprising. Ehe had big black eyes and, unlike most Australians, a rich colour. She was tall also and elegant, and always dressed with great care and taste. Nothing more unlike the Humpey could be imagined. Tunimbah head station was an imposing stone house with deep verandahs trellised with creepers, had a beautifully kept garden, a gravelled courtyard, and beds planted with flowering shrubs and pomegranate trees and camellias. It; had outbuildings after the newest and most improved pattern, stables, a retinue of smartly - got-up blackboys and grooms, trim fences and white gates, and last, but greatest of all, a Chinese cook. The head station stood on a small hill, and the garden sloped down to a lagoon, as is the case in many Australian homesteads. Beyond the lagoon was the racecourse, and on this particular occasion — j the tenth anniversary of Mr and Mrs Jem's wedding day — there were to ba given some bush races— a sort of friendly competition amocg the horseowners of the district, which j was rather noted for its races, and the horses they intended to run at the forthcoming Leichardt's Town races. Mrs Jem received her principal guests on the verandah facing the courtyard, and herself conducted them to the drawing room. It was her great aim to be considered English, and ehe always made a great deal of Lord Horace, who was at his best on these occasions, and imported something of the British country-house element into these bush gatherings. She had been accustomed to rather patronise the Valliant girls in the days before Ina's marriage, and it had been at her house that Lord Horace first met Ina. I She therefore took credit to herself for the match. " I am so glad you came, dear. Thank you both, for your good wishes. Wasn't it a happy idea putting the races on to our wedding day 7 Of couvse we couldn't possibly have had them at the election time. Ob, such a pity, isn't it, about Frank 7 We had made so &ure. But he is quite certain to get in for Wallaroo, and we must jus>t make the best of Mr Blake, who is quite charming. Such a pity he is on the wrocg side! but Jem says, Elsie, that you must convert him." Mrs Jem had quite a number of people already assembled when the Gages and Miss Valliant arrived. Jem Hallett was a hand3ome, rather heavy squatter, excessively good-natured, but not as clever and enterprising as his brother. He was far too lazy to go into politics, and contented himself with having the best breed of cattle on the Luya. Mrs Jem interrupted her husband's heavy jokes, and sent him off to look after the gentlemen and bring them in to tea. Her drawing room looked extremely English, with its daintily-laid tea-table and pretty silver things, and with its art muslin draperies and upholstered lounges and armchairs. Several ladies were sitting there, and others were playing about in the verandah and on the tennis lawn. Those in the drawing room were for the most part matrons, and among them were one or two Leicbardt's Town magnates — Lady Garfit, the wife of the Minister for Lands, and her daughter; there was pretty Mrs AUanby, who gave parties in Leichardt's Town, and whose husband was a stock and station agent; two or three of the neighbouring squatteresses ; several young ladies, rivals of Elsie as popular 'belles, who came in from the verandah when the Gage party appeared. Lady Horace/s marriage had produced a certain increase of cordiality in the manner of the Leichardt's Town dames, especially now that it was known that Lord and Lady Waveryng were coming cut, and would be guests at Government House during the time of the Prince's visit. Formerly Mrs Valliant and her pretty daughters had only been admitted on sufferance into the more select circle of Leichardt's Town society, and this gave Elsie Valliant's manner a dash "of defiance as she acknowledged their greetings. The girl was full of • hatred and malice — at least so she told Ina— and it flashed through her mind that there might be some great person in the Prince's suite who would fall in love with her and marry her, and that she might revenge herself on theße second-rate people for all their plights. She was an undeveloped creature, this poor Elsie. There was nothing very great in her, or very noble. She was full of meannesses and littlenesses and jealousies, for which she despised herself in her more exalted moments, but there had never come anything into her life to call forth higher sentiments. She sometimes fancied that if such thing did come she, too, could prove herself heroic. Ina was better than she. No one acknowledged that more readily than Elsie. But then Ina had not been the idol of a foolish mother, and Ina had never been a beauty. Elsie had never looked more lovely than she did that evenicg when she went into the drawing room dressed for dinner. She and Ina had spent some time in the concoction of the costume, and then Elsie had had a fit of penitence, and bad insisted on making something lovely for Ina too. It struck Elsie that Ina seemed shy and agitated, and she wondered if Lord Horace had been cross. Now that the blush of the honeymoon was over, Lord Horace had fits of downright crossness. And Lord Horace was certainly selfish and exacting. He made his wife do things for him that he would not have required from a Lady Clara Vere-de-Vere. This Elsie resented. What right had he to expect that her sister would act as his valet ? Ina did everything that he asked her, and was patient and sweet as far-famed Grizzel. But she always said that she was happy.

Frank Halletfc took Elsie in to dinner. Lord Horace naturally conducted Mrs Jem, add Mr Blake, was given to Lady Horace. Mrs Jem had waived the rules of strict etiquatte so far as to give Lady Garfit; the precedence over some- time Ina Valliant. Blake and Ina were seated opposite Elsie and Frank. Somehow, whenever she glanced across the table Elsie seemed to meet Blake's eyes. He had such odd eyes — so deep and piercing. She could never forget their wild gleam on that strange night at Goondi. Blake had a stephanotis flower in his buttonhole. So had Frank Hallett. She remembered having said to Blake one day at Goondi— the day after the declaration of

the poll, when they had walked down the street of the township while waiting for the coach, and to hear the latest news of Moonlight, or rather to hear the news of Moonlight's vain pursuers — that the stephanotia was her favourite flower. Blake's voice enchained her attention, and made her listen carelessly to what Frank Hallett was saying. She wondered what Blake was talking about to loa. She felfc almost certain from the way they both looked at her that she herself was the subject of conversation. She was the eubject also of Mr Dominic Trant's regard. He was on her other side, and devoted much more consideration to her than to his legitimate partner. He would insist upon discoursing about Blake in what Elsie felt to be rather a crude fashion. " You remember what I said to you the other night, Miss Valliant ? " " I am not sure that I do, Mr Trant." " I told you that my partner was rather a dangerous customer. You know there's such a thing as the biter getting bit. Any woman who plays with Blake will find that she is playing with fire." "I don't understand you, Mr Trant; or how what you say can in any way apply to me." " They say you are a flirt. So is Blake.'' " Well 1 " "He never cared for a woman in his life, Miss Valiiant ; but it has always been with him as it is with the sportsman after game. The more difficult it is to get, the more fellows there are after it, the more determined he is that it should fall to his gun. Blake would follow a woman he thought worth his trouble through thick and thin till he had got her down at his feet." " And then 1 " 11 Why, then, Miss Valiiant, he'd tell her that he had no heart ,to give, and he would leave her to further enjoy the excitement of going after other game. That is all Blake cares for — the excitement of doing what other r eople have failed to do." " And so," said Elsie, "Mr Blake goes about wii h women's scalps at his belt, and you fancy that he might do me the honour of wishing to adorn himself with mine. It ig very kind of you to warn me. Why are you so interested in my welfare 1 " "Because I want you for myself," said Trant, brutally. " That is very kind of you, too," said Elsie. " I like your way of playing a game, Mr Trant. It h honest, at any rate." She turned to Frank Hallett, and pointedly avoided Trant. He came up to her, however, as soon as dinner was over. •' I have come to beg your pardon. I'm a rough brute. I throw myself on your mercy." "Please don't offend again then," said Elsie. " I'll go on my knees to you if you like. I'll promise anything. The only thing I'm good for is to sing. Mrs Jem Hallett has asked .me to eing. You'll forgive me when you hear me ting. I am going to sing something to you. 1 ' The man was right. His merit lay in hia voice. It was impossible not to be moved by his singing. They were all sittiDg out on the verandah or strolling about the star-lit garden, which was full of the scent of stehanotis, verbena, and Cape jasmine. Mrs Jem had started mu3ic in the drawing room, while the dining room, which was a great room with a polished floor, was being got ready for dancing. Elsie had already a little crowd of men round her. Several were Leichardt's Town admirers. The old fever for admiration was upon her. From one she accepted a flower. To another she gave one. She had smiles for all. Then Trant began to sing. A vague emotion seized her — a sudden irresistible longing for the deeper drama of life. There was so much beyond all this flirting and dancing and dressing— so much of which she was totally ignorant. Even Tranfc, with the coarse passion in his voice, represented a world of feeling that she had never entered. She became silant and would not answer the young men's banal remarks. " Hush— go away ; I want to listen," she said, and sat there, her profile outlined against the dark night, the; light from the drawing room upon her serious face and shining eyes and slender, girlish form ; she sat with her hands folded, quite still. Someone came and leaned against the verandah post by her side. She knew without looking at him that it was Blake. She knew, too, that he was watching her, and the feeling gave her an odd thrill, and presently drew her eyes to his. Trant's song 3 ceased ; and his accompanist went on playing desultory chords. Mr Blake said suddenly, "Do you do anything—l mean in the way of music 7 " "No," answered Elsie. "I do nothingnothing at least that gives people pleasure." " I should say that you did a great deal which gave people pleasure. You exist — that is something." " I wish you wouldn't pay me compliments in that unmeaning way. I hate it. It is like everybody else." "You would like me then to be unlike everybody else. Thank you. I like you to say that." <• Why ? » " Because it shows that you think about me." " I don't see that that matters." " Ob, yes, it does — to ms, I have been watching you, Miss Valliant, wondering" " Wondering what 7 " "Wondering what lies underneath the butterfly existence you seem to lead." 11 Ah I you think I am a butterfly." " I think that you know how topapillonner la vie — as one says, but that is a different thing from being a butterfly." " I don't understand much French, but I understand enough to know what that means." " It is a great art —to yapillonner la vie." "Do you practise it ? " she asked. " I try to. But I have moods in which life seems deadly serious." " Were you in one of those moods that night?" "Ah I No, I waa in a reckless mood that night. I have quite got over it now." " And you are in the butterfly phase," ehe said, a little bitterly. "Why do you say that in such a contemptuous way 1 " " I was thinking of something Mr Trant told me about you," "What was that?"

" Yes "•

" I don't think I ought to tell you." "I can guess what it was. Trant reproaches me with liking ladies' society too much. lam sure he told you that I was a flirt." " Yes, he said something of that kind, only he put it more strongly." "How? You needn't mind telling me what Trant said about me. I am sure that he has often said the 3ame thiegs to my f ace. ' " So he told me." " He warned you against me, didn't he 7 " « Yes " "And he described me a conceited cad, who tried to be a lady-killer 1 " "No, he didn't say that. He described you as a person who liked to make women fall in love with him, and who went about with hearts as trophies in the way that an Indian carries scalps." "Oh ! That was putting it melodramatically. Miss Valliant, perhaps you will think me a conceited cad when I say that the game of love — or flirtation — has given me some amusement in my life, but that when I found it becoming serious for myself, or for the other persoD, I have always stopped short, unless " "Well, unless?" " Unless it was a fair contest — hearts not in it— the best fighter wins, and friends wben the fight is over ; like our election the other day. Isn't that your idea of a flirtation tournament ? " " Ye3— perhaps— l haven't ar>y theoiy about it." " You only practise the game. Well, don't you tbink that two skilled players might get a good deal of fun out of such a game 1 ? " " I don't know." Elsie was getting a little uncomfortable, and at the same time was deeply interested. "Oh yes you do. Because Trant implied that in this instance it is a case of Greek meeting Greek. Well, Miss Valliant, is it a challenge 1 " "If you like to take it so," she answered recklessly. There was a silence. " Yes, I do," he answered seriously. " I think it is very likely that I shall get beaten ; but I accept the challenge. Will you dance this with me ? " he asked, in a matter-of-fact tone. " That is a waltz, isn't it 1 " She got up. At that moment Frank Hallett came up. " Miss Valliant, will you give me this 1 " Elsie hesitated. Blake said nothing, bufc his eyes were on her. "I am engaged to Mr Blake," she said at last. Frank Hallett drew back. " The one after the next then ? lam going to dance the next with your sister." Elsie nodded. "Yes, the one after the next." She took Blake's arm and they went into the dancing room. He danced extremely well. So did she, Elsie had never felt before during a dance as she felt now. She had at once a sense of intoxication and terror. She had begun to be afraid of Blake, and she had never in her life been afraid of any man. What had he meant by asking her if she had given him a challenge. What did he think of her 7 What had he heard about her 7 Wei', she would show him that she could take care of herself. The waltz ended, and they strolled into the garden. The moon was rising, and threw fantastio shadows upon the gravelled walk. "Mr Blake," Elsie said suddenly, " will you please tell me what you meant when you told rre that day by the creek — the day I threw the flower at your horse— that you had been wishing to make my acquaintance fora particular reason? Will you tell me what the reason was ? " "If you wish it," he said ; " but it is rathef a long story. I don't think I can get it into the interval between this and the next dance." 11 1 am not engaged for the text dance. We will sit it out — unless you want to dance/ " No. It seem 3 absurd to say that I would much rather sit it out with you." " Wby absurd ? " "You forbade me to pay you compliments," he answered. They turned towards the lagoon, out o£ the track ol promenaders. There was an avenue of bunyas leading to the boathouse, and the dark pyramidal pine trees looked strangely solemn in the moonlight. Elsie gave a little shiver. " I hate this walk. It puts me in mind of a churchyard. Come down here. There's a seat close to the house, and I shall be able to hear when the waltz begins." - She took him into a vine trellis to the right, and they sat down on a bench which was placed in a sort of arbour. Chapter X. Jensen's Ghost. " Well," she said. "Why?" " Why I " he repeated. "Do you know any people at Teebar ? " " No," she answered — and blushed at one of her most painful recollections whioh the name evoked. "At least not now." " No, because the penon you once knew, and who lived there, is dead. He waß a man called Jensen. I knew him very well. He had a station close by the township." " Yes," she paid in a stifled way. "He took to drinking, as you know, and killed himself." " I did not know. Killed himselE I " " As surely as any man who ever blew his brains out. He did not drink, did he, when you knew him ? " " No. Mr Blake, I know what you mean, and it is cruel, it is wicked, to blame me for that." She half rose in her agitation. "It wasn't my fault that he " "That he loved you. No, that was certainly not your fault. There must be a great many men who love you. But I was sorry for poor Jensen. He looked a stupid fellow wben I knew him, but he was clsver enough to write very decent verse. And he looked rather a weak creature, but he was strong enough to be faithful to the one woman he ever loved." " What did he tell you about me ? Don't be afraid of hurting me." " He told me all that had ever passed between you — his version, of course, but ifc was so detailed that I think it mus4, base l evn pretty near the truth. You encouraged him a good deal." " Yes— l enoouraged him." " I think you were engaged to him for two days,"

" I— l said I would marry him— if I cculd like him well enough." " And at the end o£ two days— you didn't give it a long trial— yon told him that you had only engaged yoarself for aa experiment, to see what it felt like, and you threw him over." " Yes, that is true. I couldn't care for him enough." There was a silence. At last he said, " I saw a good deal of Jensen. I did what I could to reclaim him, but he said he had no faith in man nor woman, and no motive for living. From what I could gather, he used to be a healthy-minded man, fond of Bport and of work, and not disposed to take a morbid view of life. You will understand that I was naturally anxious to meet the lady who had been able to effect such a chasge, but besides, all that he told me about you made me feel that you would be interesting." Elsie seemed to be strangling emotion. She spoke in a hard voice, cut once or twice with a dry sob, and with her faca turned from him. "I know what you must think of me. You must think that I am fair game for anybody. You must think that lam as bad_ as a woman can be. lam certainly not going to excuse myself. I ocly want to say that I was very young, and that I had never felt deeply about anything, and had no idea that anyone else could feel in that way. I want to fay, too, that I had been brought up to think that I must marry well " " And Jensen was very well off. Yes, I kc ow.' 1 "If is horrible. It is humiliating. It is utterly undignified. When I think of it my cheeks burn, and I loathe myself. Do you know," her voice dropped, though she spoke with passionate vehemence, "he is the only man— except my father — who has ever kissed me. I hate him for that." Blake uttered an exclamation of mingled surprise and sympathy. He had never dreamed of this odd kind of virginal ptide in Elsie. Her carious unconventionally, her impulsive speech, all that he bad heard of her had prepared him for a different sort of woman. Elsie wsnt on, still in tlat hurried vehement way : *' I hatei him the day he did that, and I told him so I suppose he told you that. I felt that I never wanted to see him again— to be taken possession of — that wasn't what I meant. It is qrdte true that I bad had a fancy that it might be amusing to beengiged. I have always had a curiosity about lile, about different kinds of experience. I thought that I should have an entirely ce»v set of feelings, and.that this was to be tha door to them. You can't imagine anything more childish and stupid and igaorant. I don't know why lam telling you all this. I hate myself for doing so." " Don't do that," he said, in a different manner from his former one. " I am very glad that ycu have told me." " I have been trying to forget it all. I would never let myself think of it. I beard that he had died, but I did not know how. As I got to know other men and saw for how little flirtation counted, and how soon they got over disappointments of that kind, I got to think less about it. And then I never felt deeply about anybody, and how could I know " " That anybody might come to feel deeply about you ? And so you have gone on flirting with men and liking them, perhaps until they, too, have wanted to take possession of you, and then that fierce thing in you ha 3 roused up and has made you cruel. You have never yet met your mateh — quite." The " quits " was en after-thought. He was thinking of Frank Halletfc. " I hope," he went on, " that you won't find your match after you are married. That would be the worat misfortune that could happen to you." v Why do you say that 1 " she asked. " Because all that you have told me makes me certain that you have the capacity for a feeling wbicb, when it comes, will almost frighten you." "Could one be frightened of love?" she said softly. "I have often wished that I could really love someone." 11 Don't wish it — unless you are quite certain that the man you love is worthy of your love and capable of giving you back all that you give. Don't wish it unless you are certain, too, that the man you love can marry you." She shrank together a little. " I think we had better go ir>>" she said. " The dance will begin presently." He got up and gravely offered her his arm. " Miss Valliant> you are going back soon to Leichardt's Town. Will you allow me to call •upon you and your mother ? " II Yes certainly," she answered, and added, " We live on Emu Point." They walked toward 3 the house. Before they rtached theTerandah E'sie stoppedaud fac^dbim " lamvc ry soiry for wh^t I said to you this evening," sbe said impu'sively. '• I hope you will forget it." 11 1 am afraid that I can't promise to do that." he answered. " Taen at least you will not remind me of it." 11 Ah 1 that of course I can promise. As far as lies in my power I will try not to remind you of it." " Thank you. I thick that I will sit down here. If you sea Mr Frank Halletc will you tell him where I am." He left her. She had not long to wait. Frank Halletfc was walking up and down with Lady Horace, and he had Eeen her come back with Blake. They both came to her. 11 Elsie," Ina said> " what is the matter 1 11 Nothing," said Elsie. " Why 1 " " You looked scared somehow." " I think it must be because I have been secleg ghosts," said Elsie tremulously. " Ghosts 1 " repsated Lady Horace. Elsie did cot answer. "It mast have bsen lbs effect of the moonlight in the garden," said Hallett. "Thoce pyramids of r'rynca-3porum do look rather l-.ke white ghosts." Elfcio barsfc into a laagb. " How l'.ke you that ppeech wps. You are really a very comforting person. You alway3 find a natural and reasonable explanation lor jill o«e's vagaries, for yll one's stupid jsuperni I- u» !<*n, ! e3." " I am glad, 1 ' he said gravely, •• that you find mj a comforting person. Bat I don't think that is what you like best."

" What is it that I like best ? " 11 Something more romantic. I know that lam a very prosaic kind of fellow. But perhaps that wears best in the long run, and mo3t stupid superstitious fancies do admit of a reasonable and natural explanation." They began to dance. The waltz with him was not quite like the one with Blake. She was conscious of this, and she was angry with herself for being so. Why should a girl, when two men wal'z equally well, fcel_ a subtler intoxication in the contact' and joint motion with the one than with the other 1 They had only taken a few turns when she stopped him. " I don't want to dance. I'm tired." They went out into the verandah again. Ho was concerned. " Something is the matter with you." "No. Yes— everything is the matter." " Tell me, Elsie," he said. " Frank, if I ever give you bad pain— if you are misled by your own fancies; and think me belter and truer and more &incere than I am, and wake up to find that I am a vain, ambitious, mercenary girl, with no real thought for anyone but myself, don't say that I haven't warned you." " You have warned me often enough, and I told you that I was quite contented to take the risk. I can't bear you to talk like that, and yet I'm glad too." " Tell me why you are glad." " Because if you weren'o getting to care for me a little, 3ou wouldn't be troubled at the thought of the suffering you might cause me." "lam troubled— horribly troubled. And of couree I care a little for you. I care a great deal, but it isn't the sort of caring I mean." "The sort of caring you mean is a romantic dream — the glamour that never was on sea or land, but only in the imagination of romance writers. I don't mind entering the lists with your prince, Elsie, dear. I can wait. He won't come along. Princes like that don't ride through the gum trees." " Now," she said seriously, " ifc pleases me to hear you talk like that. It makes me feel that you are strong. I wish that you were strong enough to carry me off and put an end to my dcubts for ever." "Shall I try?" " No, no. Give me my year. Frank, I do not want to care for you. I am grateful to you for loving me. You'll believe that." Eisie slept badly that night. They had danced till long past midnight, and she had tried to drown her guiltiy recollection of poor Jensen. She bad danced again with Blake, and they had talked in the verandah afterwards, not of personal topic?. With a tact which she appreciated he avoided allusion to their previous conversation — but of travel, of men and women and books, of life on the Luya, and of the wider life beyond. And she had danced with Trant, and he had been very personal, and had expressed his admiration with a certain respectful bluntness which bad amused her, and had done more than anything else to distract her thoughts from more painful subjects. She told herself that if he was a little rough he meant no harm, and that his roughness was of a more interesting kind than that of the Luya squatters in general. Elsie was not very fond of bushmen. She preferred the bank clerks and young civil servants of Leichardt's Town. She had danced, too, more than once again with H'illett, and Bhe was doing her very best to persuade herself that the regard she felt for Frank Hallett was the nearest approach she should ever get to love. And I then she had seen very plait ly that Lady I Garfib and her daughter were making up to the Halletts, and that Frank was clearly an object of desire in matrimonial circles. Io wa3 perfectly evident that Rose Garfit was in love with him. Rose was another type of Lsichardt's Town. She was not soft and slender and complex, like Elsie, but was a great Junoesque creature, with calm b'ue eyes and quantities of flaxen hair— a down- i right soit of girl, absolutely good-natured, a splendid horsewoman, a good tennisplayer, always bright and smiling and equable, and in every way a desirable wife for a well-to-do squatter. Elsie did not actually dislike Rose, who did not want to give herself air?, though she had always seemed to hold herselE aloof in a calmly superior way from the lesser fry of Leichardt's Town. This was because of her father's position, and because she was always better dressed, and had carriages and riding horsep, which she, poor Elsie, never had unless some obliging admirer gave her a mount. But Elsie hated Lady Gai fit with a holy hatred, for Lady Garfit had snubbed her on more than one ccc3sion, and bad done all she could to leep El«e out of the Government House se f , promulgating the report, that she was fast apd bad style, and even that she rouged. Elsie would have done anything to annoy Lady Garfi% and it was very evident that. Lady Garfit was extreocely annoyed at Frank Hallett's devotion. There were other ladies, too, before whom Elsie was not displeased to parade her conquests. She could see that Mrs Allanby was furious because she had sat out with Mr Blake, and became Frank Hallett had forgotten a datca for which he was engoged to her, while he in hia turn was sitting out with Elsia. But Mrs Allanby revenged herself by flirtirg with Lord Horace. And then there was Minna Pryde, of Leichardt's Town who was more on Elsie's social level than Rose Gaifit— who never lost an opportunity of, as she put it, " spiting " Elsie about her " beaux." Minna was dark and pretty and vivacious, and was certainly not good style, and not at all in favour with the more fastidious of tho Leichard's Town matrons. Elsie was also rather pleased to vex Mrs Jem, who patronised her, and who, sbe knew, would have preferred Rose Gaifit for a sister-in-law. These uncharitable motives had been more cr less preponderant all the evening, but in the stillness of her chamber they melted into a rain of tear?. Phe did not dere to cry out aloud, lest she should wake laa. The two sisters shared a tiny verandah room, Lord Horace having been sent, with almost all the other gentlemen, to the bachelors' quarters, where, judging from the sound 3of revelry floated on tbe night, he was doubtless er joying himself, {To U conimiied)