THE TERROR AND THE CHILD.

Southland Times, Issue 16786, 15 July 1911, Page 10

THE TERROR AND THE CHILD.

BOOK T, CHAPTER I THE GATHERING OF THE THREADS A girl and a boy were bidding each Other good-bye for what, at their age, seemed an eternity. They stood dejectedly at the angle of the iron-bark fence, which divided and bounded the back paddocks respectively of Taverner’s Run and Henfrey’s Selection. Outside the boundary fence, interminable vistas of lank but living- gum trees, closed In the horizon. Inside the paddocks, tbs trees had been “rung”—that is to %B.y, barked within two circular lines — \nd left to bleach and die. They looked like an army of grey Skeletons, waiting in gaunt desolation Cor the stroke of doom. For them, this meant the return from a bunyaSorgy of a tribe of half-civilised blacks, whe, after having had their fling of barbarism, could be put to the work of clearing away felled trunks and the burning out of stumps. Meanwhile, these grotesque-limbed corpses of trees suggested vestiges of primeval vegetation. An unwieldy iguana scuttling through the rank grass below them gave also the idea of an antediluvian survival. But to the children, skeleton-trees and ■lguana were quite everyday facts. They like the gum-trees, were indigenous to the soil. The girl, Katharine Henfrey, was about twelve year old, a tall wellformed healthy creature, whose supple Crane gave promise of fine proportions, *nd who was precocious in her ways, as are most children of the Australian Bush. Very cleanly apparelled, her abbreviated cotton skirts were to-day fresh from the wash-tub, and likewise, her sun bonnet was newly starched, its crude pink colour clashing with the yellowy-red of her mane of thickly curling hair. Just now, the sun bonnet was recklessly pushed hindward, and the curly red-gold hair lay towzled upon the child’s forehead and plastered round her eyes where she had wiped tears away with her wet hands. Her face was irregular In feature and ’ heavy-looking, except when under play of emotion. Then it ceased to be heavy. Than the red-lipped, occasionally sulky, mouth was apt to take on curves that made one wish to kiss it ; and the girl’s eye—her best point—large brown eyes -wl:h a doglike, ,faithful expression, would shine brilliantly between their thick up-curling lashes. At this moment they were like stars in a rainy sky, and her lips trembled. Limited though her experience and few her years, Katharine Henfrey knew already what it was to suffer from the Intensity of her feelings, though people, as a rule —her father among them—were wont to describe her as a stolid lump of a girl, hard to wake up Into any sort of excitement. The bpy, Richard Taverner, showed, in many respects, a marked contrast to the girl, and perhaps that was the very reason they were so devoted to each other. The only characteristic they seemed to have in common was a certain outward' reserve ; but In Katharine It was constitutional ; in Dick Taverner, the reticence which comes from uncongenial surroundings and from being misunderstood by his own people. For it was easy to see that underneath a generally silent and moody manner the boy was all sensitive nerves and Intellectual aspiration. He was about five years older than the girl, but unlike her, he was small for his age—spare, wiry and not much ialler than she herself. He was very lark, with straight, black hair and earnest blue-black eyes, a sallow face, long-chinned and with a long upper Up—not at all a good-looking face, but attractive from Its refinement and because of a certain individuality, and, also a rare but particularly sweet smile. The boy was uncouth, witji a touch of the wild upon hiin. He wouPd have been called a “bushy,” in contra-dis-tinction to a town-bred youth, but in reality he was by no means a typical product of the Bush. He carried no stockwhip nor wore long-rowelled spurs, and his knees were not bent inward from gripping the saddle. Over his moleskins and Crimean shirt he had put on a shabby coat In consideration of his tryst with the girl, and this showed the instinct of the Bush gentleman. His hands, brown though they were, looked less rough than those of the ordinary Bush boy. He had not the embryo stockman’s slouch, and his “Jim Crow” hat lacked the traditional Bush chin strap of worn leather. Clearly, he belonged to the Squatter class, and had no business to be hob-nobbing with the daughter of a hated Free-Selector. For that was before the days of government by a democracy in Leichardt’s Land. Then, the Squatter was a great personage who resented intrusion upon his few hundreds of square miles of territory as fiercely as though they were his by right of hereditary descent, md the small holder as a governing quantity was only just beginning to make his power felt. Of these coming democrats —the Labour Party of the future —Robert Henfrey, Katharine’s father, was perhaps foremost. Richard Taverner, however, did not trouble himself much about such questions. He had made up his mind as to the career he meant to adopt, and that was not a political one. A thick brown book bulked now out of one of his pockets ; it was Carpenter’s “Mental Physiology”; and a corner of the other pocket was badly torn by a text book on medicine which the lad habitually carried. Richard Taverner intended to be a doctor. By nature he was beyond all things a student, and had already dlstruiced his teachers at the local grammar school, so he was shortly going to a school in Sydney, and he hoped later on to study medicine in Europe. Now, however, his thoughts were concentrated on the weeping girl. His own eyes were sad, and his sensitive plain featured face twlched with agitation. Each was an only child. Socially, however, Katherine was below' Richard, though her father had more money than Richard’s. Captain Taverner, like most of the retired military men who took up land In Leichardt’s Land, had not found squatting profitable, but the Taverner’s came from good stock, and had Influential connections in England. Thus by parentage and association the boy was distinctly a gentleman. Whereas Katharine Henfrey’s grandfather nad been known to his Intimates in the neighbouring colony of New South Wales as a “ticket-on-leaver-man.” Naturally, Henfrey of Leichardt’s Land did not proclaim the fact that his father —once butler to a certain Sir Marmaduke Courtelyon, an English baronet —had been convicted o|f stealing his master’s plate, and transported to Botany Bay. So people in Leichardt’s Land. Including Henfrey’s own daughter, were ignorant of this blot upon the girl’s ancestry. Katharine’s father had started as a bullock driver. Somehow he had amassed a small pile, the “how” being not always so creditable as wool carrying. Then he had “free selected” land on Captain Taverner’s station whore he had built the homestead in which, however, be himself seldom dwelt, for he had \ other ends in view. He speculated in mines, bought a sugar plantation up north, made more money, and got himself elected to the Leichardt’s Land Legislative Assembly for a northern constituency. In politics he was famlliar'y termed “Slavery Bob” from his fierce and successful advocacy of a bill legalizing what was practically' slave dealing In natives of the South Sea Islands, who were kidnapped and brought over to work on the plantations, by which means Henfrey added considerably to his little pile. Robert Henfrey had thought things out for himself on his own level, which was very different from that of~young Taverner, and he had made up his mit.d on two or three essential points. One of these was that before he died he was going to be Premier of Leichardt’s Land. Another was, that Katharine should become —to use his own words — * “bigger swell” than any oth§r girl In

SERIAL STORY.

(By MRS CAMPBELL PRAED.) (All Rights Reserved.)

the district. Towards that desiraole end there was one aiTectual preliminary step, and Bob Henfrey took it. On this very day he was to place Katharine In charge of the nuns at a convent school near Leichardt’s Town. So. much for the general situation. Now, Katharine’s little trunk was packed. and the horses were being run up for the buggy in which Mr Henfrey was to drive her to Leichardt’s Town. She could hear the crack of the blaskboy’s stock whip. In the interval she had come to the old meeting place to bid farewell to her childhood mate. ‘You’ll always /be my mate, Dick? You won’t forget me?” The child wept unrestralne’dly ; the boy tried to comfort her in his reserved but forceful way. : “I’ll never forget you Kathy. I’ll never have another woman-mate. A chap has to have man-mates, but that’s quite a different thing—and I'm not the sort to have them, either. So I shall only think of you. Mind—l mean what I say, and you’ve got to remember me all the time, until you've grown up and come back again.” “Ye— esf sniffed Katharine, obediently. “B—but I d —don’t want to go away, and I don’t want you to g—go.” “I’ve got to learn my profession, and you’ve got to be taught the things that nice women ought to know. Nobody will teach you such things so well as the nuns,” said Dick, sagely. “Tisn’t only nice women who get married,” pouted Kathy. "But I s’pose you wouldn’t want to marry me unless I were nice.” “I expect I should want you whatever you were,” said Dick softly, “because I don’t change my mind easily—l’m built that way. And I mean to marry you. So cheer up, Kathy, and remember, you belong to me.” Katharine heaved a satisfied sigh and smoothed down her frock complacently. “How soon do you thing you’ll be able to marry me. Dick?” She was gazing into his blue-black eyes with a look of dumb fatality In her own big brown ones. It contrasted oddly with her childlike manner ; and the boy seeing it, felt a strange, awakening hunger grip him. “I’m going to marry you,” he said determinedly, “just as soon as I can get a home together for us to live in. It may be a poor one at first, but it'll do for us two. No one will ever look after you as I shall, Kathy, and no one would ever suit me half so well as you. I’ve thought it all out. In five years you’ll have turned seventeen, and I shall be nearly twenty two. That’s old enough for people to get married. Until then we shall be engaged. Now I’m going to put a ring on your finger, and we shall plight each other our troth — like Lucy and the Master of Ravenswood.” “What you read to me? Oh, but Lucy was made to marry someone she didn’t want to, and she committed murder, and then went mad and died! How dreadful if that happened to me!” “No fear, silly. You’re not likely to come under a curse. I’m not accursed like the Master of Ravenswoocl.” “No—o,” shivered Katharine. “And Lucy was wicked and false. If she’d kept true to him, it might never have, happened.” "Well, don’t you be wicked —or false. Now let us plight each other, our troth. See here, Mate.” The youth displaced “Mental Physiology” for a minute, and from the depths of his pocket pulled out an envelope in the middle of wych something small and hard defined a circlet. Katharine’s features relaxed. She betyned at her boy-lover frankly. Her shining, tearwet eyes sparkled with interest. “Oh, Dick —you darling! What have you got there?” “It‘s our engagement ring.” The boy’s voice thrilled proudly. “I bought it myself out of my own money, and I got opals because your birthday is in October. Nobody ought to wear opals who wasn’t born in October. , It’s made so that It will stretch to your finger as you grow bigger. For you must never, never take it off, Kathy! Before I put It on, promise me that you will never, never take it off.” “I promise,” cried Katharine, glibly. “On your sacred word of honour, no matter what happens.” “On my sacred word of honour, no matter what happens,” repeated Katharine, her eyes glued to the envelope. “Mind that! And if I die before we’re married, you’ve to leave in your will that you’ve to be buried with It on your finger. And even if you should be false—or I should be false, which isn’t very likely—you're to wear it just the same.” “I’m to wear it just the same," repeated Katharine. “But what would be the good of my wearing it if you were false?”

“If you were false, you mean. It’s always girls that are false —not men. I shall never chuck you—you needn’t be afraid of that. But supposing your father wants you to marry some richer chap—you know how it was with Lucy —well, one can’t depend on a girl having grit enougli to stick it out.” ‘T should stick it out,” asserted this girl. “Anyhow, you must swear. For I don’t believe I should ever stop caring for you—no matter what you might do; and I’d like to be sure you wouldn’t forget me. Well, you couldn’t, so long as you wore my ring. You’d he bound to think of me every time yon looked at your finger. That would be my revenge. So swear to me on your sacred honour.” “I swear—on my sacred honour—oh, do let me see tiie ring!” “In a minute.” Katharine was tip-toeing with excitement, while the hoy soberly opened the envelope that contained the circlet and unfolded tiie tissue paper in which it was wrapped. “How could you have It made so that it will grow with my finger?” “I’ll show you. There!" “O—o—oli! My word’ Oh, it is lovely. Why, it’s a snake.” “Tliat’t how it ’.till stretch with your finger, see." “And what queer eyes it’s got. They seem to be ail colours.” “They’re very good opals. I bought them because they’re Leicnarclt’s Land stones. And besides.” lie added mournfully. “I couldn’t afford rubies or diamonds.” “Dear Dick! 1 love these just as much. Please put it on.” “See here though, first. I’ve had something cut inside —our initials. K. & R.—-they look almost like the one letter —and after it, just “Mates.” What do you think of that? First rate, isn’t it?” “Oh, I do like it,” ejaculated Katharine, screwing up hei eyes and inspecting the interwined initials and the one word after them —“Mates.” most solemn of pledges in tiie Bush. Richard slipped tiie ring on the child’s finger. He had to squeeze tlie soft gold to make it fit. < Why, it goes nearly three times round. When you are grown up, I daresay it won’t go much more than once. Kathy, you know what this

means?” “It means that we are mates for over and ever.” “It means more than that. Tt xneans that some day we are going to he husband’and wife.” Kathy glanced up a little nervously. The dumb, pathetic look deepened in her eyes. “But we won’t tell anyone that. Dirk? Father would half kill me if lie know." “Of course, nobody is to know at present. It’s our secret—only between you and mo, Kathy.” Tiie boy’s arm stole round her shoulders. “My precious little sweetheart—Mate.” Kathy nestled against him. “Oh, then I don’t mind, if it’s only between you and me, Dick.” "But you love me, Kathy?” ‘l’ll love you always.” An angry coo-ce sounded through the gum trees. “There’s father!” exclaimed the girl. “Good-bye. Dick,” “Kiss me good-bye, Jittle Mate,"

Katharine tendered innocent red lips; the boy kissed her with shy ardour. A. yet angrier 000-ee reverberated among the gums. r lhen a man’s harsh voice, a triilo thick in the utterance, called out: “Kilty—Kate! 'Where the devil have you got to'.’ D’ye think 1 m going to wait tor you all day?” “Coming—coming, father,” Katherine shrilled, tremulously. “Confound you! Look sharp about it. And if you’re fooling with Dick Taverner, tell "him to go and look after liis own business.” The bov tightened his arm round the girl’s waist ami throw ui» his head. He scarlet as lie stioulcd icsontfullj over his shoulder: “Thank you, Mr Henfrey. _ I am looking after my own business.” Henfrey uttered a malediction upon Dick Taverner’s impudence, and informed his daughter that she’d “got to hurry up.” The two children ran a few stops along the paddock fence, hand In hand. Then Richard stopped short. ‘■Good-bye. Mato," lie said, In a clicked voice. Katharine could not answer for weeping. The boy vaulted over the as the harsh voice called once more, Kate —Kate! Look sharp, I say!” CHAPTER II On the twenty-fourth of May, several years later, the city of Lelchardt s Town spreading in white buildings and green gardens between the broad loops of the Leichardt River, was bright with flags and full of excitement. A new Parliament was to be opened that morning, and there was to be a great ball at Government House that evening. j People wondered why the Queen a birthday should hare been chosen for the opening of Parliament. A trick of Premier Henfrey’s, they said, to avoid unpleasant demonstrations from an embittered minority. “Slavery Bob” had appealed to the country on a big political question, and had come out of the general election at the head of his democrats, stronger than ever. It was prophesied that Henfrey’s Ministry would outlast the new parliament. This day was memorable for Katharine Henfrey. She had finished her education at the convent, and had taken up her position as mistress of the Premier’s house by the river. To-day she was to make her first public appearance at the opening of Parliament and to "come out” at the Birthnight Ball. She had never been allowed to go back to the Selection, which Henfrey had since sold. Thus, Dick and Kathy had not met from the time of their parting by the slip-rails until now. When Katharine went to the convent and Richard to school in Sydney they started a determined correspondence, but when It was discovered, the Reverend Mother submitted the matter to Mr Henfrey, and orders were given that Katharine’s letters should not be posted nor Richard Taverner’s delivered. After that came silence, and Katharine’s natural storm of grief was over, she gave up expecting to be even remembered by Richard. . Now, save for a very tender memory deep down In her heart, and the presence of the snake ring on her hand, Richard Taverner had long ceased to be a definite fact In Katharine’s existence.

Not so with him. Ho still thought of his red-haired sweetheart-mate ; but with regard to the promise that bound him to her, there seemed small chance of its fulfilment. , For during those intervening years Dick Taverner had fallen on evil days. In due course he had graduated with honours at the Sydney University, where he had obtained his preliminary medical qualification with a view to taking his M.D. degree in England. But at the critical point his hopes were frustrated. Bad times came to his father’s station ; the Bank foreclosed and sold up the place. Captain Taverner, ruined and broken in mind and health, depended only on his son. Filial duty as well as lack of funds forced Richard to' give up his professional career, just as it had begun to open before him, and he devoted himself to his father until Captain Taverner dldfi. Then with a good slice of unprofitable time taken off his life, Dick found himself penniless, his only hope of carrying out his ambitions lying In the goodwill of his English relatives. Fortunately that had not failed him. Money for his passage had been sent out by an uncle, and now Dick had arrived in Leichardt’s Town, his berth taken In the Eastern and Australasian mailboat which was to sail the following morning for the other side of the world. This, for the present at least, was therefore Richard’s last day in Leichardt’s Land. All old Leichardtstonians know the great ugly stone building the laws of the colony are made, that dominates the tongue of land ,on which lie the Botanical Gardens and the grounds of Government House, with that low-colonnaded edifice In, their centre. To-day It was a very centre of activity —almost bewildering to young Richard after his long tendance on his father In tlie solitude of a small selection in the wild. He had come to the show chiefly from an irresistible craving to see Katharine Henfrey. He had not courage to present himself at the Premier’s house ; he wanted to meet Kathy upon neutral ground, and discover for himself whether there was still a place for him in her heart Therefore he pulled such social wires as were at his command, procured with difficulty an invitation' to the Government House Ball, and got himself a seat in the Strangers’ Gallery of the Upper Chamber of the House of Legislation, whence he might see the Governor perform the opening ceremony, and take stock of the Ministerial ladies among whom he felt certain he should find Katharine.

The Chamber-seemed to young Taverner when he took his seat in the Gallery like a garden of brilliant flowers — lie was so unused to seeing so many smiling women clad in soft gay colours. The reserved upper benches near the dais were filling with wives and daughters of Cabinet Ministers and high officials; the lower ones being already fully occupied by dames of lesser standing. There was Black Rod showing the more important persons into their seats. A large, bombastic gentleman was Black Rod —about sixty, with beaked nose and receding chin and forehead, whose deportment unquestionably gave dignity to hi>s staff erf office and the beautiful lace lappets which were part of his official full dress. Presently dick saw him step along with extra pomposity to greet two ladies who were advancing somewhat hesitatingly towards the seats just below tiie dais—one elderly and commonplace, obviously unaccustomed to being a prominent figure in such pageants ; the other young, equally unaccustomed, and evidently a little shy, but with a certain individual air of distinction which differentiated her from the other young women present. Dick Taverner’s heart leaped. He would have known tiie girl by her hair—-thick, wavy, with the reddish line of a field of overripe corn —had he not recognised her by a dozen other characteristics as his little mate of the slip-rails! His Kathy load grown into a tall young woman, very straight, for the nuns had drilled her well —but with generous proportions. Very fair of skin, with the same broad cheek-bones, sensitive nostrils and tempting curves of red-lipped mouth and chin that he remembered In the child of the slip-rails. She had the same odd look in her wide brown eyes—that suggestion of fatofulness which lent an nlmoat tragic touch to her otherwise homely attractiveness. There was scarcely a trace about her, however, of that which in the Lolchardt's Town young ladles was termed “stylo"; and Taverner whose taste In the feminine was simple from Its vary limitations, admired her all the more because of this. He heard a man, next but one to him, commenting on the two ladles whom Black Rod had fussily installed as near as possible to tiie Governor’s dais. The man belonged apparently to a small group of Bush onteiders, judging from their eagerness tt) have notabilities pointed out to them, “D'ye see —that’s Mrs Purvis, Her husband’s Minister for Lands and a pal of Henfrey's. Now, whb’d ever have thought when Mother Purvis used to stack boatloads of pineapples and melons for selling to tiie steamers—that she’d come to sit among tiie blg-wlgaj That’s Henfrey’s daughter with her — not much in the way of looks—eh ? but a fine upstanding filly all the same. My word! she ought to be a catch for some young chap. You bet, Slavery Bob put a good bit of public money into his pocket over that Kanaka Kidnapping Bill of his. Y’know, they say up north that you can buy any Government job from Henfrey, provided you pay heavily enougli for it.” “Don’t you believe it. Henfrey's alj right,” put in a partisan of the Premier’s. Another man joined in—a bushman' too Taverner judged, of the wrong sort. “Well now,” lie drawled, “a friend of mine took me to the club last night, and some of the fellows there were sayi

ing that Henfrey's got his eye on young Courtelyon to marry his daughter.” “My hat! That was a put up job if you like—making an ass, like old Courtelyon, Usher of the Black Rod. there was hound to be a reason for it,” remarked the first speaker, who seemed to be a disaffected Henfreyite. “Don’t agree!” retorted the partisan. “Usher of the Black Rod, look at him! There’s the billet where a dash of the grandee shows up fine. You don’t want brains to help you flourish a stick and hang bits' of lace over your collar. But I say,” the speaker lunged forword confidentially. “Do you believe there’s anything in that yarn about Courtelyon being a baronet when some old duffer kicks the bucket ?” “I d’no,” returned the first speaker, with true Australian nonchalance. “He may be going to be a lord for all the odds it makes to me." “Got cheek enough for it. anyway—’specially the young ’un," observed another of the group with a drawling laugh. “Flash as the devil, but not a brass farthing between ’em outside their pay, that’s what the chaps at the club were saying,” Interposed the bushman with the air of one who wishes to be considered “in the know.” “Young Courtelyon’s only got a bush billet, up Port Murrln way.” he went on. “Me and the rest were wondering a* Slavery Bob’s going in for such a poor spec for Miss Kitty.”

Young Taverner flamed at this. His eyes had been fixed on the girl below, while his ears were open to the talk concerning her. He was seated on the outer edge of an angular space where the partition between this gallery and the one next it— the Speaker’s Gallery —slanted inwards to a row of pillars, thus giving some excuse of comparative isolation to the indiscreet talkers. They were too engrossed with themselves to hear, as he did now, a hasty movement on the other side of the low partition, and an exasperated ejaculation. Richard, suddenly looking up, saw appearnig over the tpp of the partition a very handsome and extremely angry young man. A tall broad shouldered young man with an aquiline nose, bright blue eyes, crisp yellow hair looking as if the barber had just shorn and brushed ll off the round, rather receding forehead, a small smooth-shaven chin, apd a fulllipped mouth with a silky moustache twirled into points. Uplike the talkers on the other side, he had Immaculate collar and shirt-cuffs, and a generally well-tailored ;appearanqe. Yet his face was bronzed like theirs, and he had much of the same frank unconventionality, but it was combined with an air of English breeding.' This was a hushman of a decidedly better sort, thought Taverner. That he should be seated in the Speaker’s Gallery showed that he was not a mere nobody, such as poor Dick himself. ■ •‘Excuse me for Interrupting your highly flattering remarks.” “Hello ! Why, it’s young Gilbert Courtelyon,” exclaimed the showman of the party. “Well, WO’R he hanged before we apologise for saying what’s true, mister —so there, if that’s what you want.” ' , “Not at all. You’re at perfect liberty to form and express whatever opinion you jolly well please about my father and myself. But evidently you need reminding that it is not the custom among gentlemen to repeat In public any conversation they may have heard In a club. And allow me also to Inform you that the man who mentions the name of a lady In such connection Is a dishonourable cad —do you understand?” "Oh, shut up,” Interposed one of the other occupants of the corner, who so far had taken no part in the conversation. “Don’t you hear? The Governor will be in directly.” “All right, my friend,” replied Courtelyon not ill humouredly. “But I may add, sir ” and he addressed himself anew to the offending bushman, who did not now seem inclined to pick up the cudgels. Courtelyon’s last words, however, were drowned by the band playing loudly “God Save the Queen,” and by the entrance of the Governor, amid a rustle of skirts and a general rising as the representative of the Crown took his place on the dais. The bushman iairned his back, mumbling a half-defiant apology ; ahd then the cries behind of “Sit down ! Sit down !” forced vn Un g Courtelyon again Into his seat., S,ick liked the yopng man for speaking up, and felt a twinge of shame that he

himself should not have risen in defence of Katharine’s dignity. tie could not see the-girl any longer, for, she was obscured by the burly form of a man in naval uniform who stood by the dais. To Dick, all the rest was meaningless pomp and gabble—the arrival of the Lower House headed by Henfrey the Premier—big, portly, sallow-faced, with baggy cheeks, self-assured, triumphant: the reading of the speech ; the flutter at its conclusion, and shortly after, the .departure of the great Panjandrum and his suite, with the Ministerial ladies, including Miss Henfrey and her chaperone, in their wake. Dick watched Katharine as the Usher of the Black Rod again spoke to her, and he could hardly believe that this very iiriportant and fairly self-possessed young lady was really his little mate of the Selection, He hurried down from his place in the gallery and saw her, escorted by both the Courtelyons, get into iter carriage. He guessed that -it was her own carriage—a very smartly turned-out landau—from the way in which she stood back to let Mrs Purvis precede her. He got near enough in the crowd to hear Gilbert ■ Courtelyon engage her for some dances at the Ball that evening. "Of course, you’ll be among the Ministerial swells who have the entree.’’ said he, with his pleasant sounding English laugh. “But please. Miss Henfrey, don’t let your card be filled up while we poor beggars are waiting to pass by among the outsiders. Keep me some waltzes, won’t you—oh! and the first lancers? No good)- of course, asking you for the State quadrille. That, I suppose, will be all in strict order of precedence?” Katharine laughed, too. How refined her voice sounded, Taverner thought—almost as English as Courtelyon’s. It had only the least trace of Colonial drawl, which made it sound prettier than otherwise. Dick pressed forward, and, as the carriage was driving off, Kathy seemed to catch sight of him..- For one Instant he fancied that a look of recognition flooded her face. He lifted his hat. She bent sideways and smiled. But amid all that throng of spectators eager to salute her he could not be sure that the bow and the smile were for him. (To be continued).