^OWW- 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 ^■" °^ BOOKS 
 
 ^■40 FACIFI 
 
 C '^V'cNtJi
 
 TINY LUTTRELL 
 
 BY 
 
 ERNEST WILLIAM HORNUNG 
 
 AUTHOR OF "a BRIDE FROM THE BUSH," "UNDER TWO SKIES," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 STREET & SMITH, Publishers 
 
 238 William Street
 
 Copyright, 1893, 
 By CASSELL PUBLISHING CO. 
 
 Copyright, 1900, 
 By STREET & SMITH
 
 
 COT>ITENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. The Coming of Tiny, i 
 
 II. Swift of Wallandoon, , . . . . 21 
 
 III. The Tail of the Season, 44 
 
 IV. Ruth and Christina, 63 
 
 V. EssiNGHAM Rectory, 84 
 
 VI. A Matter of Ancient History, . . . 102 
 
 VII. The Shadow of the Hall, 116 
 
 VIII. Countess Dromard at Home, .... 133 
 
 IX. Mother and Son, 148 
 
 X. A Threatening Dawn, 162 
 
 XL In the Ladies' Tent, 176 
 
 XII. Ordeal by Battle, ig3 
 
 XIII. Her Hour of Triumph, 213 
 
 XIV. A Cycle of Moods, 233 
 
 XV. The Invisible Ideal, 248 
 
 XVI. Foreign Soil, 263 
 
 XVII. The High Seas, 2S6 
 
 XVIII. The Third Time of Asking, .... 306 
 
 XIX. Counsel's Opinion, 317 
 
 XX. In Honor Bound, ..... 327 
 
 XXI. A Deaf Ear, . 339 
 
 XXIL SUMMUM BONUM, .... , 348 
 
 1673038
 
 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. 
 
 Swift of Wallandoon was visibly distraught. 
 He had driven over to the township in the 
 heat of the afternoon to meet the coach. The 
 coach was just in sight, which meant that it 
 could not arrive for at -least half an hour. Yet 
 nothing would induce Swift to wait quietly in 
 the hotel veranda ; he paid no sort of atten- 
 tion to the publican who pressed him to do so. 
 The iron roofs of the little township crackled 
 in the sun with a sound as of distant musketry ; 
 their sharp-edged shadows lay on the sand like 
 sheets of zinc that might be lifted up in one 
 piece ; and a hot wind in full blast played 
 steadily upon Swift's neck and ears. He had 
 pulled up in the shade, and was leaning for- 
 ward, with his wide-awake tilted over his nose, 
 and his eyes on a cloud of dust between the
 
 z TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 bellying sand-hills and the dark blue sky. The 
 cloud advanced, revealing from time to time 
 a growing speck. That speck was the coacli 
 which Swift had come to meet. 
 
 He was a young man with broad shoulders 
 and good arms, and a general air of smartness 
 and alacrity about which there could be no 
 mistake. He had dark hair and a fair mus- 
 tache ; his eye was brown and alert ; and much 
 wind and sun had reddened a face that com- 
 monly gave the impression of complete capa- 
 bility with a sufficiency of force. This after- 
 noon, however, Swift lacked the confident 
 look of the thoroughly capable young man. 
 And he was even younger than he looked ; he 
 was young enough to fancy that the owner 
 of Wallandoon, who was a passenger by the 
 approaching coach, had traveled five hundred 
 miles expressly to deprive John Swift of the 
 fine position to which recent good luck had 
 promoted him. 
 
 He could think of nothinoelse to brinof Mr. 
 Luttrell all the way from Melbourne at the 
 time of year wlien a sheep station causes least 
 anxiety. The month was April, there had 
 been a fair rainfall since Christmas, and only 
 in his last letter Mr. Luttrell had told Swift
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. 3 
 
 that all he need do for the present was to take 
 care of the fences and let the sheep take care 
 of themselves. The next news was a telegram 
 to the effect that Mr, Luttrell was coming up 
 country to see for himself how things were 
 i:;oing at Wallandoon. Having stepped into 
 the managership by an accident, and even so 
 merely as a trial man, young Swift at once 
 made sure that his trial was at an end. It did 
 not strike him that in spite of his youth he 
 was the ideal person for the post. Yet this 
 was obvious. He had five years' experience 
 of the station he w^as to manage. The like 
 merit is not often in the market. Swift 
 seemed to forget that. Neither did he take 
 comfort from the fact that Mr. Luttrell was an 
 old friend of his family in Victoria, and hitherto 
 his own highly satisfied employer. Hitherto, 
 or until the last three months, he had not tried 
 to manacre Mr. Luttrell's station. If he had 
 failed in that time to satisfy its owner, then 
 he would at once qo elsewhere ; but for many 
 things he wished most keenly to stay at Wal- 
 landoon ; and he was thinking of these things 
 now, while the coach o^rew before his eves. 
 
 Of his five years on Wallandoon the last 
 two had been infinitely less enjoyable than
 
 4 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 the three that had gone before. There was 
 a simple reason for the difference. Until two 
 years ago Mr. Luttrell had himself managed 
 the station, and had lived there with his wife 
 and family. That had answered fairly well 
 while the family were young, thanks to a com- 
 petent governess for the girls. But when the 
 girls grew up it became time to make a change. 
 The squatter was a wealthy man, and he could 
 perfectly well afford the substantial house 
 which he had already built for himself in 
 a Melbourne suburb. The social splashing of 
 his wife and daughters after their long seclu- 
 sion in the wilderness was also easily within 
 his means, if not entirely to his liking ; but 
 he was a mild man married to a weak woman ; 
 and he happened to be bent on a little splash 
 on his own account in politics. Choosing out 
 of man}'^ applicants the best possible manager 
 for Wallandoon, the squatter presently entered 
 the Victorian legislature, and embraced the 
 new interests so heartily that he was nearly 
 tv/o years in discovering his best possible 
 manager to be both a failure and a fraud. 
 
 It was this discovery that had given Swift 
 an opening whose very splendor accounted 
 for his present doubts and fears. Had his
 
 THE COMING OF TINY- 5 
 
 chance been spoilt by Herbert Luttrell, who 
 had lately been on Wallandoon as Swift's 
 overseer, for some ten days only, when the 
 two young fellows had failed to pull together? 
 This was not likely, for Herbert at his worst 
 was an honest ruffian, who had taken the 
 whole blame (indeed it was no more than his 
 share) of that fiasco. Swift, however, could 
 think of nothiiiof else ; nor was there time ; 
 for now tlie coach was so close that the crack 
 of the driver's whip was plainly heard, and 
 above the cluster of heads on the box a whiue 
 handkerchief fluttered against the sky. 
 
 The publican whom Swift liad snubbed 
 addressed another remark to him from the 
 veranda : 
 
 " There's a petticoat on board." 
 
 " So I see." 
 
 The coach came nearer. 
 
 " She's your boss's daughter," affirmed the 
 publican—" the best of 'em." 
 
 " So you're cracking ! " 
 
 " Well, wait a minute. What nov/?" 
 
 Swift prolonged the minute. " You're right," 
 he said, hastily tying his reins to the brake. 
 
 " I am so." 
 
 " Heaven help me !" niuttered Swift as he
 
 6 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 jumped to the ground. " There's nothing 
 ready for her. They might have told one !" 
 
 A moment later five heaving horses stood 
 sweating in the sun, and Swift, reaching up his 
 hand, received from a gray-bearded gentleman 
 on the box seat a grip from which his doubts 
 and fears should have died on the spot. If 
 the)^ did, however, it was only to make way 
 for a new and unlooked-for anxiety, for little 
 Miss Luttrell was smiling dov/n at him through 
 a brown gauze veil, as she poked away the 
 handkerchief she had waved, leaving a corner 
 showing against her dark brown jacket ; and 
 how she was to be made comfortable at the 
 homestead, all in a minute, Swift did not know. 
 
 " She insisted on coming," said Mr. Luttrell, 
 with a smile. " Is it any good her getting 
 down ? " 
 
 " Can you take me in ? " asked the girl. 
 
 " We'll do our best," said Swift, holding the 
 ladder for her descent 
 
 Her shoes made a daintier imprint in the 
 sand than it had known for two wliole years. 
 She smiled as she gave her hand to Swift ; it 
 was small, too, and Swift had not touched a 
 lady's hand for many months. There was 
 very little of her altogether, but the little was
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. 7 
 
 entirely pleasing. Embarrassed though he 
 was, Swift was more than pleased to see the 
 young girl again, and her smiles that struggled 
 through the brown gauze like sunshine through 
 a mist. She had not worn gauze veils two 
 years ago ; and two years ago she had been 
 content with fare that would scarcely please 
 her to-day, while naturally the living at the 
 station was rougher nov/ than in the days of 
 the ladies. It was all very well for her to 
 smile. She oueht never to have come without 
 a word of warning. Swift felt responsible and 
 aao;rieved. 
 
 He helped Mr. Luttrell to carry their bag- 
 gage from the coach to the buggy drawn up 
 in the shade. Miss Luttrell went to the 
 horses' heads and stroked their noses ; they 
 were Bushman and Brownlock, the old safe 
 pair she had many a time driven herself. In 
 a moment she was bidden to jump up. There 
 had been very little luggage to transfer. The 
 most cumbrous piece was a hamper, of which 
 Swift formed expectations that were speed- 
 ily confirmed. For Miss Luttrell remarked, 
 pointing to the hamper as she took her 
 seat : 
 
 " At least we have brought our own rations ;
 
 8 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 but I am afraid they will make you horribly 
 uncomfortable behind there?" 
 
 Swift was on the back seat. " Not a bit," 
 he answered ; " I was much more uncomfort- 
 able until I saw the hamper." 
 
 "Don't you worry about us, Jack," said 
 Mr. Luttrell as they drove off. " Whatever 
 you do, don't worry about Tiny. Give her 
 travelers' rations and send her to the travel- 
 ers' hut. That's all she deserves, when she 
 wasn't on the way-bill. She insisted on com- 
 ing at the last moment ; I told her it wasn't 
 fair." 
 
 " But it's very jolly," said Swift gallantly. 
 
 " It was just like her," Mr. Luttrell 
 chuckled ; " she's as unreliable as ever." 
 
 The girl had been looking radiantly about 
 her as they drove along the single broad, 
 straggling street of the township. She now 
 turned her head to Swift, and her eyes shot 
 through her veil in a smile. That abominable 
 veil went right over her broad-brimmed hat, 
 and was gathered in and made fast at the 
 neck. Swift could have torn it from her head; 
 he had not seen a lady smile for months. 
 Also, he was beo;innincr to make the astonish- 
 ing discovery that somehow she was altered,
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. 9 
 
 and he was curious to see how much, which 
 was impossible through the gauze. 
 
 "Is that true?" he asked her. He had 
 known her for five years. 
 
 " I suppose so," she returned carelessly ; 
 and immediately her sparkling eyes wandered. 
 " There's old Mackenzie in the post office 
 veranda. He was a detestable old man, but 
 I must wave to him ; it's so good to be 
 back ! " 
 
 " But you own to being unreliable ? " per- 
 sisted Swift. 
 
 " I don't know," Miss Luttrell said, tossing 
 the words to him over her shoulder, because 
 her attention was not for the manager, "is 
 it so very dreadful if I am ? What's the good 
 of being reliable ? It's much more amusing 
 to take people by surprise. Your face was 
 worth the journey when you saw me on the 
 coach ! But you see I haven't surprised Mac- 
 kenzie ; he doesn't look the least impressed ; 
 I dare say he thinks it was last week we all 
 went away. I hate him ! " 
 
 " Here are the police barracks," said Swift, 
 seeing that all her interest was in the old 
 landmarks ; " we have a new sergeant since 
 you left."
 
 10 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " If hes In his veranda I shall shout out 
 to him who I am, and how long I have been 
 away, and how good it is to get back." 
 
 "She's quite capable of doing it," Mr. Lut- 
 trell chimed in, chuckling afresh; "there's 
 never any knowing what she'll do next." 
 
 But the barracks veranda was empty, and 
 it was the last of the township buildings. 
 There was now nothinor ahead but the rim of 
 scrub, beyond which, among the sand-hills, 
 sweltered the homestead of Wallandoon. 
 
 " I've come back with a nice character, have 
 I not?" the girl now remarked, turning to 
 Swift with another smile. 
 
 "You must have earned it; I can quite 
 believe that you have," laughed Swift. He 
 had known her in short dresses. 
 
 "Ha! ha! You see he remembers all 
 about you, my dear." 
 
 " Do you, Jack ?" the girl said. 
 
 "Do I not !" said Jack. 
 
 And he said no more. He was grateful to 
 her for addressing him, though only once, by 
 his Christian name. He had been intimate 
 with the v/hole family, and it seemed both 
 sensible and pleasant to resume a friendly 
 footing from the first. He would have called
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. II 
 
 the girl by her Christian name too, only this 
 was so seldom heard among her own people. 
 Tiny she was by nature, and Tiny she had 
 been by name also, from her cradle. Certainly 
 she had been Tiny to Swift two years ago, 
 and already she had called him Jack ; but he 
 saw in neither circumstance any reason why 
 she should be Tiny to him still. It was 
 different from a proper name. Her proper 
 name was Christina, but unreliable though 
 she confessedly was, she might perhaps be 
 relied upon to jeer if he came out with that. 
 And he would not call her " Miss Luttrell." 
 He thouofht about it and orrew silent ; but this 
 was because his thouofhts had orlided from the 
 (jirl's name to the srirl herself. 
 
 She had surprised him in more ways than 
 one — in so many ways that already he stood 
 almost in awe of the little person whom for- 
 merly he had known so well. Christina had 
 changed, as it was only natural that she should 
 have changed ; but because we are prone to 
 picture our friends as last we saw them, no 
 matter how long ago, not less natural was 
 Swift's surprise. It was unreasoning, how- 
 ever, and not the kind of surprise to last. In 
 a few minutes his wonder was that Christina
 
 12 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 had changed so little. To look at her she 
 had scarcely changed at all. A certain finality 
 of line was perceptible in the figure, but if 
 anything she was thinner tlian of old. As for 
 Iier face, what he could see of it through the 
 maddening gauze was the face of Swift's 
 memorv. Her voice was a little different ; in 
 it 'vvas a ring of curiously deliberate irony, 
 charmino^ at first as a mere affectation. A 
 more noteworthy alteration had taken place 
 in her manner: she had acquired the manner 
 of a finished young woman of the world and 
 of society. Already she had shown that she 
 could become considerably excited without 
 forfeiting any of the grace and graciousness 
 and self-possession that were now conspicu- 
 ously hers ; and before the homestead was 
 reached she exhibited such a saintly sweetness 
 in repose as only enhanced the lambent devil- 
 try playing about most of her looks and tones. 
 If Swift was touched with av/e in her presence, 
 that can hardly be wondered at in one who 
 went for months together without setting eyes 
 upon a lady. 
 
 The drive was a lonof one — so lone that 
 v/hen they sighted the homestead it came be- 
 tween them and the setting sun. The main
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. 13 
 
 building- with its long, regular roof lay against 
 the red sky like some monstrous ingot. The 
 hot wind had fallen, and the station pines 
 stood motionless, drav/n in ink. As they 
 drove through the last gate they could hear 
 the dogs barking ; and Christina distinguished 
 the voice of her own old short-haired collie, 
 which she had bequeathed to Swift, who was 
 repaid for the sound with a final smile. He 
 hardly knew why, but this look made the girl's 
 old self live to him as neither look nor word 
 had done yet, though her face was turned 
 away from the light, and the stupid veil still 
 fell before it. 
 
 But the less fascinating side of her arrival 
 was presently engaging his attention. He 
 hastily interviewed Mrs. Duncan, an elderly 
 godsend new to the place since the Luttrells 
 had left it, and never so invaluable as now. 
 Into Mrs. Duncan's hands Christina willingly 
 submitted herself, for she was really tired out. 
 Swift did not see her again until supper, 
 which afforded further proofs of Mrs. Duncan's 
 merits in a time of need. Meanwhile, Mn 
 Luttrell had finally disabused him of the fool- 
 ish fears he had entertained while waiting for 
 the coach. Swift's youth, which has shown
 
 14 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 itself in these fears, comes out also in the ease 
 with which he now forgot them. They had 
 made him unhappy for three whole days ; yet 
 he dared to feel indignant because his owner, 
 who had confirmed his command instead of 
 dismissing him from it, chose to talk sheep at 
 the supper table. Swift seemed burning to 
 hear of the eldest Miss Luttrell, who was Miss 
 Luttrell no longer, having married a globe- 
 trotting Londoner during her first season and 
 gone home. He asked Christina several 
 questions about Ruth (whose other name he 
 kept forgetting) and her husband. But Mr. 
 Luttrell lost no chance of rounding up the 
 conversation and yarding it in the sheep pens ; 
 and Swift had the ingratitude to resent this. 
 Still more did he resent the hour he was 
 forced to spend in the store after supper, 
 examining the books and discussing recent 
 results and future plans with Mr. Luttrell, 
 while his subordinate, the storekeeper, en- 
 joyed the society of Christina. The business 
 in the store was not only absurdly premature 
 and irksome in itself, but it made it perfectly 
 impossible for Sv/ift to hear any more that 
 night of the late Ruth Luttrell, whose present 
 name was not to be remembered. He found
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. IS 
 
 it hard to possess his soul in patience and to 
 answer questions satisfactorily under such 
 circumstances. For an hour, indeed, he did 
 both ; but the station store faced the main 
 building, and when Tiny Luttrell appeared 
 in the veranda of the latter with a lighted 
 candle in her hand, he could do neither any 
 longer. Saying candidly that he must bid her 
 good-night, he hurried out of the store and 
 across the yard, and was in time to catch 
 Christina at one end of the broad veranda 
 which entirely surrounded the house. 
 
 At supper Mr. Luttrell had made him take 
 the head of the table, by virtue of his office, 
 declaring that he himself was merely a visitor. 
 And on the strength of that Swift was per- 
 haps justified now in adding a host's apology 
 to his good-night. " I'm afraid you'll have 
 to rough it most awfully," was what he 
 said. 
 
 " Far from it. You have given me my old 
 room, the one \ve papered with Australasians, 
 if you remember ; they are only a little more 
 fly-blown than they used to be." 
 
 This was Christina's reply, which naturally 
 led to more. 
 
 " But it won't be as comfortable as it used
 
 l6 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 to be," said Swift unhappily ; " and it won't be 
 what you are accustomed to nowadays." 
 
 " Never mind, it's the dearest little den in 
 the colonies !" 
 
 " That sounds as if you were glad to get 
 back to Riverina ? " 
 
 " Glad ? No one knows how olad I am." 
 
 One person knew now. The measure of 
 her gladness was expressed in her face not less 
 than in her tones, and it was no ordinary 
 m.easure. Over the candle she held in her 
 hand Swift was enabled for the first time to 
 peer unobstructedly into her face. He found 
 it more winsome than ever, but he noticed 
 some ancient blemishes under the memorable 
 eyes. vShe had, in fact, some freckles, which 
 he recognized with the keenest joy. She 
 might stoop to a veil — she had not sunk to 
 doctoring her complexion ; she had come back 
 to the bush an incomplete worldling after all. 
 Yet there was that in her face which made him 
 feel a stranger to her still, 
 
 " Do you know," he said, smiling, " that I'm 
 in a great funk of you ? I can't say quite 
 what it is, but somehow you're so grand. I 
 suppose it's Melbourne." 
 
 Miss Luttrell thanked him, bowing so low
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. 17 
 
 that her candle shed grease upon the boards. 
 "You've altered too," she added in his own 
 manner ; " I suppose it's being boss. But I 
 haven't seen enough of you to be sure. You 
 evidently told off your new storekeeper to 
 entertain me for the evening. He is a trying 
 young man ; he zvill talk. But of course he 
 is a new chum fresh from home." 
 
 " Still he's a very good little chap ; but it 
 wasn't my fault that he and I didn't change 
 places. Mr. Luttrell wanted to speak to me 
 about several things, besides glancing through 
 the books ; I thought we might have put it off, 
 and I wondered how you were getting on. By 
 the way, it struck me once or tv^^ice that your 
 father was coming up to give me the sack ; 
 and it's just the reverse, for now I'm perma- 
 nent manager." 
 
 He told her this with a natural exultation, 
 but she did not seem impressed by it. " Do you 
 know why he did come up ? " she asked him. 
 
 " Yes ; for his Easter holidays, chiefly." 
 
 " And why I would come with him ?" 
 
 " No ; I'm afraid we never mentioned you. 
 I suppose you came for a holiday too ?" 
 
 "Shall I tell you why I did come?" 
 
 " I wish you would."
 
 iS TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Well, I came to say good-by to Wallan- 
 doon," said Christina solemnly. 
 
 " You're going- to be married ! " exclaimed 
 Swift, with conviction, but with perfect non- 
 chalance. 
 
 "Not if I know it,"- cried Christina. "Are 
 
 "Not I." 
 
 " But there's Miss Trevor of Merino-ul !" 
 
 " I see them once in six months." 
 
 " That may be in the bond." 
 
 "Well, never mind Miss Trevor of Merin- 
 gul. You haven't told me how it is you've 
 come to say good-by to the station, Miss Lut- 
 trell of Wallandoon." 
 
 " Then I'll tell 3'ou, seriously : it's because 
 I sail for England on the 4th of May." 
 
 "For England!" 
 
 "Yes, and I'm not at all keen about it, I can 
 tell you. But I'm not going to see England, 
 I'm going to see Ruth ; Australia's worth fifty 
 Englands any day." 
 
 Swift had recovered from his astonishment. 
 " I don't know," he said doubtfully ; "most of 
 us would like a trip home, you know, just to 
 see what the old country's like ; though I dare 
 say it isn't all it's cracked up to be."
 
 THE COMING OF TINY. I9 
 
 "Of course it isn't. I hate it !" 
 
 *'• But if you've never been there?" 
 
 " I judge from the people — from the sam- 
 ples they send out. Your new storekeeper is 
 one ; you meet worse down in Melbourne. 
 Herbert's going with me ; he's going to Cam- 
 bridge, if they'll have him. Didn't you know 
 that ? But he could go alone, and if it wasn't 
 for Ruth I wouldn't cross Hobson's Bay to see 
 their old England !" 
 
 The serious bitterness of her tone struck 
 him afterward as nothing less than grotesque ; 
 but at the moment he was ofazinQ^ into her 
 face, thoughtfully yet without thoughts. 
 
 " It's good for Herbert," he said presently. 
 " I couldn't do anything with him here ; he 
 offered to fioht me when I tried to make him 
 work. I suppose he will be three or four years 
 at Cambridge ; but how long are you going to 
 stay with Mrs.— Mrs. Ruth?" 
 
 " Hov/ stupid you are at remembering a 
 simple name ! Do try to remember that her 
 name is Holland. I beg your pardon. Jack, 
 but you have been really very forgetful this 
 evenincr. I think it must be Miss Trevor of 
 Merincrul." 
 
 " It isn't. I'm very sorry. But you haven't
 
 20 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 told me how long you think of staying at 
 home." 
 
 "How long?" said the young girl lightly. 
 " It may be for years and years, and it may be 
 forever and ever ! " 
 
 He looked at her strangely, and she darted 
 out her hand. 
 
 "Good-night again, Jack." 
 
 " Good-night again." 
 
 What with the pauses, each of them an ex- 
 cellent opportunity for Christina to depart, it 
 had taken them some ten minutes to say that 
 which ought not to have lasted one. But you 
 must know that this was nothinor to their last 
 good-night, on the self-same spot two years 
 before, when she had rested in his arms.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON. 
 
 Christina was awakened in the morning by 
 the holland bHnd flapping against her open 
 window. It was a soft, insinuating sound, 
 that awoke one gradually, and to Christina 
 both the cause and the awakening itself 
 seemed incredibly familiar. So had she lain 
 and Hstened in the past, as each day broke in 
 her brain. When she opened her eyes the 
 shadow of the sash wriggled on the blind as it 
 flapped, a blade of sunshine lay under the 
 door that opened upon the veranda, and 
 neither sight was new to her. The same 
 sheets of the Australasian with which her 
 own hands had once lined the room, for want 
 of a conventional wallpaper, lined it still ; the 
 same area of printed matter was in focus from 
 the pillow, and she actually remembered an 
 advertisement that caught her eye. It used 
 to catch her eye two years before. Thus it 
 became difficult to believe in those two years ;
 
 22 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 and it was very pleasant to disbelieve in 
 them. More than pleasant Christina found 
 it to lie where she was, hearing the old 
 noises (the horses were run up before she 
 rose), seeing the old things, and dreaming 
 that the last two years were themselves a 
 dream. Her. life as it stood was a much less 
 charming composition than several possible 
 arrangements of the same material, impossible 
 now. This is not strange, but it was a little 
 strange that neither sweet impossibilities nor 
 bitter actualities fascinated her much ; for so 
 many good girls are morbidly introspective. 
 As for Christina, let it be clearly and early 
 understood that she was neither an introspect- 
 ive girl by nature nor a particularly good one 
 from any point of view. She was not in the 
 habit of lookino- back; but to look back on 
 the old days here at the station without think- 
 ing of later days was like reading an uneven 
 book for the second time, leaving out the poor 
 part. 
 
 In making, but still more in closing that gap 
 in her life (as you close a table after taking 
 out a leaf) she was immensely lielpcd by the 
 associations of the present moment. They 
 breathed of the remote past only ; their breath
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON. 23 
 
 was sweet and invigorating. Her affection 
 for Wallandoon was no affectation ; she loved 
 it as she loved no other place. And if, as she 
 dressed, her thoughts dwelt more on the young 
 manager of the station than on the station 
 itself, that only illustrates the difference be- 
 tween an association and an associate. There 
 is human interest in the one, but it does not 
 follov/ that Tiny Luttrell was immoderately 
 interested in Jack Swift. Even to herself she 
 denied that she had ever done more than like 
 him very much. To some " nonsense" in the 
 past she V\^as ready to own. But in the vocab- 
 ulary of a Tiny Luttrell a little "nonsense" 
 may cover a calendar of mild crimes. It is 
 only the Jack Swifts who treat the nonsense 
 seriously and deny that the crimes are any- 
 thing of the sort, because for their part they 
 " mean it." Women are not deceived. Be- 
 sides, it is less shame for them to say they 
 never meant it. 
 
 " He must marry Flo Trevor of Meringul," 
 Christina said aloud. " It's what we all expect 
 of him. It's his duty. But she isn't pretty, 
 poor thing ! " 
 
 The remarks happened to be made to 
 Christina's ov.^n reflection in the glass. She, as
 
 24 TINY I.UTTRELL. 
 
 we know, was very pretty indeed. Her small 
 head was finel)^ turned, and carried with her 
 own natural grace. Her hair was of so dark 
 a brown as to be nearly black, but there was 
 not enough of it to hide the charming contour 
 of her head. If she could have had the 
 altering of one feature, she would probably 
 have shortened her lips ; but their red fresh- 
 ness justified their length ; and the crux of a 
 Vv/^oman's beauty, her nose, happened to be 
 Christina's best point. Her eyes were a 
 sweeter one. Their depth of blue is seen only 
 under dark blue skies, and they seemed the 
 darker for her hair. But with all her good 
 features, because she was not an English girl, 
 but an Australian born and bred, she had no 
 complexion to speak of, being pale and slightly 
 freckled. Yet no one held that those blem- 
 ishes prevented her from being- pretty ; while 
 some maintained that they did not even 
 detract from her orood looks, and a few tliat 
 they saved her from perfection and vvere 
 a part of her charm. The chances are that 
 the authorities quoted were themselves her 
 admirers one and all. She had many such. 
 To most of them her character had the 
 same charm as her face ; it, too, was freckled
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON. 25 
 
 with faults for which they loved her the 
 more. 
 
 One of the many she met presently, but one 
 of them now, though in his day the first of all. 
 Swift was hastening along the veranda as 
 she issued forth, a consciously captivating fig- 
 ure in her clean white frock. He had on his 
 wide-awake, a newly filled water-bag dripped 
 as he carried it, the drops drying under their 
 eyes in the sun, and Christina foresaw at once 
 his absence for the day. She was disap- 
 pointed, perhaps because he was one of the 
 many ; certainly it was for this reason she did 
 not let him see her disappointment. He told 
 her that he was going with her father to the 
 out-station. That was fourteen miles away. 
 It meant a lonely day for Christina at the 
 homestead. So she said that a lonely day 
 there was just what she wanted, to overhaul 
 the dear old place all by herself, and to revel 
 in it like a child without feeling that she was 
 being watched. But she told a franker story 
 some hours later, when Swift found her still 
 on the veranda where he had left her, but 
 this was now the shady side, seated in a wicker 
 chair and frowning at a book. For she 
 promptly flung away that crutch of her soli-
 
 26 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 tude, and seemed really glad to see him. Her 
 look made him tinMe. He sat down on the 
 edore of the veranda and leaned his back 
 against a post. Then he inquired, rather 
 diffidentl)', how the day had gone Avith Miss 
 Luttrell. 
 
 " I am ashamed to tell 3^ou," said Christina 
 graciously, for though his diffidence irritated 
 her, she was quite as glad to see him as she 
 looked, " that I have been bored very 
 nearly to death ! " 
 
 " I knew you would be," Swift said quite 
 bitterly ; but his bitterness was against an 
 absent man, v/ho had aone indoors to rest. 
 
 " I don't see how you could know anything," 
 remarked Christina. " I certainly didn't know 
 it myself ; and I'm very much ashamed of it, 
 that's another thing ! I love every stick about 
 the place. But I never knew a hotter morn- 
 ing ; the sand in the yard was like powdered 
 cinders, and you can't go poking about very 
 long when everything you touch is red hot. 
 Then one felt tired. Mrs. Duncan took pity 
 on me and came and talked to me; she 
 must be an acquisition to you, I am sure ; but 
 her cooking's better than her conversation. 
 I think she must have sent the new chum to
 
 SWIFT OF wallandoon: 27 
 
 me to take her place ; anyway I've had a dose 
 cf him, too, I can tell you ! " 
 
 "Oh, he's been cutting his work, has he?" 
 
 " He has been doing the civil; I think he 
 considered that his work," 
 
 " And quite right too ! Tell me, what do 
 you think of him ?" 
 
 Christina made a grotesque grimace. " He's 
 such a little Englishman," she simply said. 
 
 " Well, he can't help that, you know," said 
 Swift, laughinp-; "and he's not half a bad little 
 chap, as I told you last night." 
 
 " Oh, not a bit bad ; only typical. He has 
 told me his history. It seems he missed the 
 army at home, frontdoor and back, in spite of 
 his crammer — I mean his cwammer. He was 
 no use, so they sent him out to us." 
 
 "And he is gradually becoming of some use 
 to us, or rather to me ; he really is," protested 
 Swift in the interests of fair play, which a man 
 loves. " You laugh, but I like the fellow. He's 
 much more use — forgive my saying so — than 
 Herbert ever would have been — here. At all 
 events he doesn't want to fiofht ! He's will- 
 ing, I will say that for him. And I think it 
 was rather nice of him to tell you about him- 
 self."
 
 28 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 *' It's nicer of you to think so," said Christina 
 to herself. And her glance softened so that 
 he noticed the difference, for he was becom- 
 inof sensitive to a slisfht but constant hardness 
 of eye and tongue distressing to find in one's 
 divinity. 
 
 " He went so far as to hint at an affair of 
 the heart," she said aloud, and he saw her eyes 
 turn hard aeain, so that his own o^lanced off 
 them and fell. But he forced a chuckle as he 
 looked down. 
 
 " Well, you gave him your sympathy there, 
 I hope?" 
 
 " Not I, indeed. I urged him to forget all 
 about her; she has forgotten all about him 
 long before now, you may be sure. He only 
 thinks about her still because it's pleasant to 
 have somebody to think about at a lonely 
 place like this ; and if she's thinking about 
 him it's because he's away in the wilderness 
 and there's a orlamour about that. It wouldn't 
 prevent her marrying another man to-morrow, 
 and it won't prevent him making up to some 
 other girl when he gets the chance." 
 
 " So that's your experience, is it?" 
 
 " Never mind whose experience it is. I 
 advised the 3^oung man to give up thinking
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON. 29 
 
 about the young woman, that's all, and it's my 
 advice to every young man situated as he is." 
 
 Swift was not amused. Yet he refused to 
 believe that her advice was intended for him- 
 self : firstly, because it was so coolly given, 
 which was his ignorance, and secondly, because, 
 literally speaking, he was not himself situated 
 as the young Englishman was, which was 
 merely unimaginative. In his determination, 
 however, not to meet her in generalizations, 
 but to get back to the storekeeper, he was 
 wise enough. 
 
 " I know something about his affairs, too," 
 he said quietly ; " he's the frankest little fellow 
 in the world ; and I have given him very dif- 
 ferent advice, I must say." 
 
 Tiny Luttrell bent down on him a gaze of 
 fiendish innocence. 
 
 " And what sort of advice does he give you, 
 pray ? " 
 
 "You had better ask him," said Swift 
 feebly, but with effect, for he was honestly 
 annoyed, and man enough to shovv^ it. As he 
 spoke, indeed, he rose. 
 
 "What, are you going?" 
 
 " Yes ; you go in for being too hard alto- 
 gether."
 
 30 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " I don't go in for it. I am liard. I'm as 
 liard as nails," said Christina rapidly, 
 
 " So I see," he said, and another weak 
 return was strengthened by his firmness ; for 
 he was going away as he spoke, and he never 
 looked round. 
 
 " I wouldn't lose my temper," she called 
 after him. 
 
 Her face was white. He disappeared. She 
 colored angrily. 
 
 " Now I hate you," she whispered to her- 
 self; but she probably respected him more, 
 and that was as it only should have been long 
 ago. 
 
 But Swift was in an awkward position, 
 which indeed he deserved for the unsuspected 
 passages that had once taken place between 
 Tiny Luttrell and himself. It is true that 
 those passages had occurred at the very end 
 of the Luttrells' residence at Wallandoon ; 
 they had not been going on for a period pre- 
 ceding the end ; but there is no denying that 
 they were reprehensible in themselves, and 
 pardonable only on the plea of exceeding 
 earnestnes"^. Swift would not have made that 
 excuse for himself, for he felt it to be a poor 
 one, though of his ov.-n sincerity he was and
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOOM. 3^ 
 
 had been unwaveringly sure. Beyond all 
 doubt he was properly in love, and, being so, 
 it was not until the girl stopped wTiting to 
 him that he honestly repented the lengths to 
 which he had been encouraged to go. It is 
 easy to be blameless through the post, but 
 they had kept up their perfectly blameless 
 correspondence for a very few vv^eeks when 
 Christina ceased firing ; she was to have gone 
 on forever. He was just persistent enough 
 to make it evident that her silence was inten- 
 tional ; then the silence became complete, and 
 it was never ao'ain broken. For if Swift's 
 self-control was limited, his self-respect was 
 considerable, and this made him duly regret 
 the limitations of his self-control. His boy's 
 soul bled with a boy's generous regrets. He 
 had kissed her, of course, and I wonder whose 
 fault you think that was ? I know which of 
 them regretted and which forgot it. The 
 man would have given one of his fingers to 
 have undone those kisses, that made him think 
 less of himself and less of his darling. Nothing 
 could make him love her less. He heard no 
 more of her, but that made no difference. 
 And now they were together again, and she 
 was hard, and it made this difference : that he
 
 32 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 wanted her worse than ever, and for her own 
 gain now as much as for his. 
 
 But two years had akered him also. In a 
 manner he too was hardened ; but he was simply 
 a stronger, not a colder man. The muscles of 
 his mind were set ; his soul was now as sinewy 
 as his body. He knew what he wanted, and 
 what would not do for him instead. He wanted 
 a great deal, but he meant having it or nothing. 
 This time she should give him her heart before 
 he took her hand ; he swore it through his 
 teeth ; and you will realize how he must have 
 known her of old even to have thought it. The 
 curious thing is that, having shown him what 
 she was, she should have made him love her 
 as he did. But that was Tiny Luttrell. 
 
 She was half witch, half coquette, and her 
 superficial cynicism was but a new form of her 
 coquetry. He liked it less than the unsophis- 
 ticated methods of the old days. Indeed, he 
 liked the girl less, while loving her more. She 
 had o-iven him the iar direct in one conversa- 
 tion, but even on indifferent subjects she spoke 
 with a bitterness which he thoroughly dis- 
 liked ; while some of her prejudices he could 
 not help thinking irredeemably absurd. As a 
 shrill decrier of England, for instance, she may
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON. 33 
 
 have amused him, but he hardly admired her 
 in that character. In a word, he thought her, 
 and rightly, a good deal spoilt by her town 
 life ; but he hated towns, and it was a proof of 
 her worth In his eyes that she was not hope- 
 lessly spoilt. He saw hope for her still — if 
 she would marry him. He was a modest man 
 in general, but he did feel this most strongly. 
 She was going- to England without caring 
 whether she went or not ; she would do much 
 better by marrying him and coming back to 
 her old hom.e in the bush. That home she 
 loved, whether she loved him or not ; in it she 
 had grown up simple and credulous and sweet, 
 with a wicked side that only picked out her 
 sweetness ; in it he believed that her life and 
 his might yet be beautiful. The feeling made 
 him sometimes rejoice that she had fallen a 
 little out of love with her life, so that he might 
 show her with all the effect of contrast what 
 life and love really were ; it thrilled his heart 
 with generous throbs, it brought the moisture 
 to his honest eyes, and it came to him oftener 
 and with growing force as the days went on, 
 by reason of certain signs they brought forth 
 in Christiana, Her voice lost Its bitterness in 
 his ears, not because he had grown used to
 
 34 TINY LVTTRkLL. 
 
 notes that had jarred hnii in the beginnuig,but 
 because the discordant strings came gradually 
 into tune. Her freshness came back to her 
 with the charm and influence of the wilderness 
 she loved ; her old self lived again to Jack 
 Swift. On the other hand, she came to realize 
 her own delight in the old good life as she had 
 never realized it before ; she felt that hence- 
 forward she should miss it as she had not 
 missed it vet. Now she could have defined 
 her sensations and ijiven reasons for them. 
 She spent many hours in the saddle, on a 
 former mount of hers that Swift had run up 
 for her ; often he rode with her, and the scent 
 of the pines, the swelling of the sand-hills 
 against the sky, the sense of Nothing between 
 the horses' ears and the sunset, spoke to her 
 spirit as they had never done of old. hwA 
 even so on their rides would she speak to 
 Swift, who listened grimly, hardly daring to 
 answer her for the fear of saying at the wrong 
 moment vv^hat he had resolved to say once and 
 for all before she went. 
 
 And he chose the wrong moment after all. 
 It was the eve of her going, and they were 
 riding together for the last time ; he felt that 
 it was also his last opportunity. So in six
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON. 3$ 
 
 miles he made as many remarks, then 
 turned in his saddle and spoke out with over- 
 powering fervor. This may be expected of 
 the self-contained suitor, v/ith whom it is only 
 a question of time, and the longer the time the 
 stronger the outburst. But Christina was not 
 carried away, for she did not quite love him, 
 and the opportunity Avas a bad one, and Swift's 
 honest method had not improved it. She 
 listened kindly, with her eyes on the distant 
 timbers of the eip-ht-mile whim ; but her kind- 
 ness was fatally calm ; and when he waited 
 she refused him firmly. She confessed to a 
 fondness for him. She ascribed this to the 
 years they had known each other. Once and 
 for all she did not love him. 
 
 " Not now ! " exclaimed the young fellow 
 eagerly. " But you did once ! You will 
 again ! " 
 
 " I never loved you," said the girl gravely. 
 " If you're thinking of two years ago, that was 
 mere nonsense. I don't believe its love with 
 you either, if you only knew it." 
 
 " But I do know what it is with me, Tiny ! 
 i loved you before you went away, and all the 
 time you vv'^ere gone. Since you have been 
 back, during these few days, I have got to
 
 36 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 love you more than ever. And so I shall 
 go on, whatever happens. I can't help it, 
 darling." 
 
 Neither could he help saying this ; for the 
 hour found him unable to accept his fate quite 
 as he had meant to accept it. Her kindness 
 had something to do with that. And now she 
 spoke more kindly than before. 
 
 " Are you sure ?" she said. 
 
 " Am I sure ! " he echoed bitterly. 
 
 "It is so easy to deceive oneself." 
 
 "I am not deceived." 
 
 " It is so easy to imagine yourself " 
 
 "I am not imagining !" cried Swift impa- 
 tiently. ^' I am the man who has loved you 
 always, and never any girl but you. If you 
 can't believe that, you must have had a very 
 poor experience of men, Tiny ! " 
 
 For a moment she looked away from the 
 whim which they were slowly nearing, and her 
 eyes met his. 
 
 " I have," she admitted frankly ; " I have 
 had a particularly poor experience of them. 
 Yet I am sorry to find you so different from 
 the rest ; I can't tell you how sorry I am to 
 find you true to me." 
 
 "Sorry?" he said tenderly; for her voice
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON. 37 
 
 was full of pain, and he could not bear that. 
 "Why should you be sorry, dear ?" 
 
 " Why — because I never dreamt of being 
 true to you." 
 
 For some reason her face flamed as he 
 watched it. There was a pause. Then he 
 said : 
 
 "You are not engaged ; are you in love ?" 
 
 " Very far from it." 
 
 " Then why mind ? If there is no one else 
 you care for you shall care for me yet. I'll 
 make you. I'll wait for you. You don't know 
 me ! I won't give you up until you are some 
 other fellow's wife." 
 
 His stern eyes, the way his mouth shut on 
 the words, and the manly determination of 
 the words themselves gave the girl a thrill of 
 pleasure and of pride ; but also a pang ; for 
 at that moment she felt the wish to love him 
 alongside the inability, and all at once she 
 was as sorry for herself as for him. 
 
 " What should you mind ?" repeated Swift. 
 
 " I can't tell you, but you can guess what I 
 have been." 
 
 " A flirt ?" He laughed aloud. " Darling, 
 I dnn't care two figs for your flirtations ! I 
 v/anted you to enjoy yourself. What does it
 
 38 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 matter how you've enjoyed yourself, so long as 
 you haven't absolutely been getting engaged 
 or falling in love ?" 
 
 Her chin drooped into her loose white 
 blouse. " I did fall in love," she said slowly 
 — ** at any rate I thought so ; and I very 
 nearly got engaged." 
 
 Swift had never seen so much color in her 
 face. 
 
 Presently he said, "" What happened ? " but 
 immediately added, " I beg your pardon ; of 
 course I have no business to ask." His tone 
 was more stiff than strained. 
 
 " You have business," she answered eagerly, 
 fearful of making him less than friend. " I 
 wouldn't mind telling you the whole thing, 
 except the man's name. And yet," she added 
 rather wistfully, " I suppose you're the only 
 friend I have that doesn't know! It's hard 
 lines to have to tell you." 
 
 " Then I don't want to know anything at 
 all about it," exclaimed Swift impulsively. 
 " I would rather you didn't tell me a word, 
 if you don't mind. I am only too thankful to 
 think you got out of it, whatever it was." 
 
 " I didn't p-et out of it." 
 
 "You don t — mean — that the man did ?"
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON, 39 
 
 Swift was aghast. 
 
 " I do." 
 
 He did not speak, but she heard him 
 breathing. Steahng a look at him, her eyes 
 fell first upon the clenched fist lying on his 
 knee. 
 
 She made haste to defend the man. 
 
 "It wasn't all his fault ; of that I feel sure. 
 If you knew who he was you wouldn't blame 
 him any more than I do. He was quite a 
 boy, too ; I don't suppose he was a free agent. 
 In any case it is all quite, quite over." 
 
 " Is it ? He was from England — that's 
 why you hate the home people so ! " 
 
 *' Yes, he was from home. He went back 
 very suddenly. It wasn't his fault. He was 
 sent for. But he might have said good-by !" 
 
 She spoke reflectively, gazing once more at 
 the whim. They were near it now. The 
 framework cut the sky like some uncouth 
 hieroglyph. To Swift henceforward, on all 
 his lonely journeys hither, it was the emblem 
 of humiliation. But it was not his own 
 humiliation that moistened his clenched hand 
 now. 
 
 " I wish I had him here," he muttered. 
 
 ** Ah ! you know nothing about him, you
 
 46 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 see ; I know enough to forgive him. And I 
 have got over it, quite ; but the worst of it is 
 \hat I can't beHeve any more in any of you — 
 I simply can't." 
 
 " Not in me?" asked Swift warmly, for her 
 belief in him, at least, he knew he deserved. 
 " I have always been the same. I have never 
 thought of any other girl but you, and I never 
 will. I love you, darling ! " 
 
 "After this. Jack?" 
 
 He seemed to disappoint her. 
 
 " After the same thing if it happens all 
 over again in Enoland! There is no merit in 
 it ; I simply can't help myself. While you 
 are away I will wait for you and work for 
 you ; only come back free, and I will win you, 
 too, in the end. You are happier here than 
 anywhere else, but you don't know what it is 
 to be really happy as I should make you. 
 Remember that — and this : that I will never 
 give you up until someone else has got you ! 
 Now call me conceited or anything you like. 
 I have done bothering you." 
 
 " I can only call you foolish," said the girl, 
 though gently. "You are far too good for 
 me. As for conceit, you haven't enough of it, 
 or you would never give me another thought.
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOOIV. 41 
 
 I still hope you will quite give up thinking 
 about me, and — and try to get over it. But 
 nothing is going to happen in England, I can 
 promise you that much. And I only wish I 
 could get out of going.'' 
 
 He had already shown her how she might 
 get out of it ; he was not going to show her 
 afresh or more explicitly, in spite of the temp- 
 tation to do so. Even to a proud spirit it is 
 difficult to take No when the voice that says 
 it is kind and sorrowful and all but loving. 
 Swift found it easier to bide by his own state- 
 ment that he had done bothering her ; such 
 was his pride. 
 
 But he had chosen the wrong moment, and 
 though he had shown less pride than he had 
 meant to show, he was still too proud to im- 
 prove the right one when it came. He was 
 too proud, indeed, to stand much chance of 
 immediate success in love. Otherwise he 
 miofht have reminded her with more force and 
 particularity of their former relations ; and 
 playing like that he might have won, but he 
 would rather have lost. Perhaps he did not 
 recognize the right moment as such when it 
 fell ; but at least he must have seen that it 
 was better than the one he had chosen. It
 
 42 Th^Y LUTTRELL. 
 
 fell in the evening, when Christina's mood 
 became conspicuously sentimental ; but Swift 
 happened to be one of the last young men in 
 the world to take advantage of any mere 
 mood. 
 
 As on the first evening, Mr. Luttreli was 
 busy in the store, but this time with the store- 
 keeper, who was making out a list of things 
 to be sent up in the drays from Melbourne. 
 Tiny and the manager were thrown together 
 for the last time. She offered to sing a song, 
 and he thanked her gratefully enough. But 
 he listened to her plaintive songs from a far 
 corner of the room, though the room was 
 lighted only by the moonbeams ; and when 
 she rose he declared that she was tired and 
 begged her not to sing any more. She could 
 have beaten him for that. 
 
 But in leaving the room they lingered on 
 the threshold, being struck by the beauty of 
 the nioht. The full moon ribbed the station 
 
 <z> 
 
 yard with the shadows of the pines, a soft 
 light was burning in the store, and all was so 
 still that the champing of the night-horse in 
 the yard came plainly to their ears, with the 
 chirping of the everlasting crickets. Christina 
 raised her face to Swift ; her eyes were wet in
 
 SWIFT OF WALLANDOON. 43 
 
 the moonlight ; there was even a sh'ght tremor 
 of the red Hps ; and one hand hung down 
 invitingly at her side. She did not love him, 
 hut she was beijinnino- to wish that she could 
 love him ; and she did love the place. Had 
 he taken that one hand then the chances are 
 he might have kept it. But even Swift never 
 dreamt that this was so. And after that 
 moment it was not so any more. She turned 
 cold, and was cold to the Qn()i. Her last words 
 from the top of the coach fell as harshly on a 
 loving ear as any that had preceded them by 
 a week. 
 
 "Why need you remind me I am going to 
 England? Enjoy myself! I shall detest 
 the whole thing." 
 
 Her last look matched the words.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEASON. 
 
 *' What do you say to sitting it out ? The 
 rooms are most awfully crowded, and you 
 dance too well for one ; besides, one's anxious 
 to hear your impressions of a London ball." 
 
 "One must wait till the ball is over. So far 
 I can't deny that I'm enjoying myself in spite 
 of the crush. But I should rather like to sit 
 out for once, though you needn't be sarcastic 
 about my dancing," 
 
 " Well, then, where's a good place ? " 
 
 *' There's a famous corner in the conserva- 
 tory ; it should, be empty now that a dance is 
 just beginning." 
 
 It was. So it became occupied next moment 
 by Tiny Luttrell and her partner, who allowed 
 that the dimly illumined recess among the tree- 
 ferns deserved its fame. Tiny's partner, how- 
 ever, was only her brother-in-law, Mr. Erskine 
 Holland. 
 
 The Luttrells had been exactly a fortnight 
 
 44
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEASON. 45 
 
 in England. It was in the earliest hour of 
 the month of July that Christina sat out with 
 her brother-in-law at her first London party ; 
 and if she had spent that fortnight chiefly in 
 visiting dressmakers and waiting for results, 
 she had at least found time to get to know 
 Erskine Holland very much better than she 
 had ever done in Melbourne, There she had 
 seen very little of him, partly through being 
 away from home when he first called with an 
 introduction to the family, but more by reason 
 of the short hurdle race he had made of his 
 courtship, marriage, and return to England 
 with his bride. He had taken the matrimonial 
 fences as only an old bachelor can who has 
 been given up as such by his friends. Mr. 
 Holland, though still nearer thirty than forty, 
 had been regarded as a confirmed bachelor 
 when starting on a long sea voyage for the 
 restoration of his health after an autumnal 
 typhoid. His friends were soon to know what 
 weakened health and Australian women can 
 do between them. They beheld their bachelor 
 return within four months, a comfortably mar- 
 ried man. with a pleasant little wife who was 
 very fond of him, and in no way jealous of his 
 old friends. That was Mrs. Erskine's ereat
 
 4«> TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 merit, and the secret of the signal success 
 with which she presided over his table in West 
 Kensington, when Erskine had settled down 
 there and returned with steadiness to the good, 
 safe business to which he had been virtually 
 born a partner. For his part, without being 
 enslaved to a decree embarrassino- to their 
 friends, Holland made an obviously satisfac- 
 tory husband. He was good-natured and 
 never exacting ; he was well off and generous. 
 One of a wealthy, many-membered firm driving 
 a versatile trade in the East, he was as free 
 personally from business anxieties as was the 
 hall porter at the firm's oflfices in Lombard 
 Street. There Erskine was the most popular 
 and least useful fraction of the firm, being just 
 a big, fair, genial fellow, fond of laughter and 
 chaff and lawn tennis, and fonder of books 
 than of the newspapers — an eccentric prefer- 
 ence in a business man. But as a business 
 man tb.e older partners shook their heads 
 about him. Once as a youngster he had spent 
 a year or two in Lisbon, learning the language 
 and the ropes there, the firm having certain 
 minor interests planted in Portuguese soil on 
 both sides of the Indian Ocean ; and those 
 interests just suited Erskine Holland, who
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEA SOX. 47 
 
 had the handling of them, though the older 
 partners nursed their own distrust of a man 
 who boasted of taking his work out of his head 
 each evening when he hung up his office coat. 
 At home Erskine was a man who read more 
 than one guessed, and had his own ideas on a 
 good many subjects. He found his sister-in- 
 law lamentably ignorant, but quite eager to 
 improve her mind at his direction ; and this is 
 ever delightful to the man who reads. Also 
 he found her amusing, and that experience 
 was mutual. 
 
 A Londoner himself, with many reputable 
 relatives in the town, who rejoiced in the 
 bachelor's marriage and were able to like his 
 wife, he w^as in a position to gratify to a con- 
 siderable extent Mrs. Erskine's social desires. 
 That he did so somewhat against his own 
 inclination (much as in Melbourne his father- 
 in-law had done before him) was due to an 
 acutely fair mind allied with a thoroughly kind 
 and sympathetic nature. His own attitude 
 toward society was not free from that slight 
 intellectual superiority which some of the best 
 fellows in the world cannot help ; but at least 
 it was pet'fectly genuine. He treated society 
 as he treated champagne, which he seldom
 
 48 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 touched, but about which he was curiously 
 fastidious on those chance occasions. He 
 cared as little for the one as for the other, but 
 found the drier brands inoffensive in both 
 cases. The ball to-night was at Lady Almeric's. 
 
 " Not a bad corner," Erskine said as he 
 made himself comfortable ; " but I'm afraid 
 it's rather thrown away upon me, you 
 know." 
 
 " Far from it. I wish I had been dancing 
 with you the whole evening, Erskine," said 
 Christina seriously. 
 
 " That's rather obsequious of you. May I 
 ask why ? " 
 
 " Because I don't think much of my part- 
 ners so far, to talk to." 
 
 "Ha! I knew there was something you 
 wouldn't think much of," cried Erskine Hol- 
 land. " Have they nothing to say for them- 
 selves, then ? " 
 
 " Oh, plenty. They discover where I come 
 from ; then they show their ignorance. They 
 want to know if there is any chance for a fel- 
 low on the gold fields now ; they have heard 
 of a place called Ballarat, but they aren't 
 certain whether it's a part of Melbourne or 
 nearer Sydney. One man knows some peo-
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEASON. 49 
 
 pie at Hobart Town, in New Zealand, he 
 fancies. I never knew anything like their 
 ienorance of the colonies!" 
 
 Mr. Holland tugged a smile out of his 
 mustache. " Can you tell me how to address 
 a letter to Montreal — is it Quebec or Onta- 
 rio?" he asked her, as if interested and 
 anxious to learn. 
 
 " Goodness knows," replied Christina inno- 
 cently. 
 
 " Then that's rather like their ignorance of 
 the colonies, isn't it ? There's not much dif- 
 ference between a group of colonies and a 
 dominion, you see. I'm afraid your partners 
 are not the only people whose geography has 
 been sadly neglected." 
 
 Christina laughed. 
 
 " My education's been neglected altogether, 
 if it comes to that. As you're taking me in 
 hand, perhaps you'll lend me a geography, as 
 well as Ruskin and Thackeray. Nevertheless, 
 Australia's more important than Canada, you 
 may say what you like, Erskine ; and your 
 being smart won't improve my partners." 
 
 " Oh ! but I thought it was only their con- 
 versation ?" 
 
 " You force me to tell you that their idea of
 
 56 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 dancing seems limited to pushing you up one 
 side of the room, and dragging you after 
 them down the other. Sometim.es they turn 
 you round. Then they're j)roud of them- 
 selves. They never do it twice running." 
 "That's because there are so many here." 
 " There are far too many here — that's 
 what's the matter! And I'm a nice person 
 to tell you so," added Tiny penitently, "when 
 it's you and Ruth who have brought me here. 
 But you know I don't mean that I'm not enjoy- 
 ing it, Erskine ; I'm enjoying it immensely, 
 and I'm very proud of myself for being here 
 at all. I can't quite explain myself — I don't 
 much like trying to — but there's a something 
 about everything that makes it seem better 
 than anything of the kind that we can do in 
 Melbourne. The music is so splendid, and 
 the floor, and the flowers. I never saw such 
 a few diamonds — or such beauties ! Even the 
 ices are the best I ever tasted, and they aren't 
 too sweet. There's something subdued and 
 superior about the whole concern ; but it's too 
 subdued ; it needs go and swing nearly as 
 badly as it needs elbow-room — of more kinds 
 than one ! I'm thinking less of the crowd of 
 people than of their etiquette and ceremony.
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEASON. 51 
 
 which hamper you far more. But it's your 
 old England in a nutshell, this ball is : it fits 
 too tight." 
 
 " Upon my word," said Erskine, laughing, 
 " I don't think it's at all bad for you to find 
 the old country a tight fit ! I'm obliged to 
 you for the expression, Tiny. I only hope it 
 isn't suggested by personal suffering. I have 
 been thinking that you must have a good word 
 to sav for our dressmakers, if not for our 
 dancinof men." 
 
 Christina slid her eyes over the snow and 
 ice of the shimmering attire that had been 
 made for her in haste since her arrival. 
 
 " I'm glad you like me," she said, smiling 
 honestly. " I must own I rather like myself 
 in this lot. I didn't want to disgrace you 
 among your fine friends, you see." 
 
 "They're more fine than friends, my dear 
 girl. Lady Almeric's the only friend. She 
 has been very nice to Ruth, Most of the peo- 
 ple here are rather classy, I can assure vou." 
 
 He named the flov/er of the company in a 
 lowered voice. Christina knew one of the 
 names. 
 
 " Lady Mary Dromard, did you say?" said 
 she, playing idly with her fan.
 
 52 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Yes ; do you know her ? " 
 
 *' No, but her brother was In Melbourne 
 once as aid-de-camp to the governor. I 
 knew him." 
 
 " Ah, that was Lord Manister ; he wasn't 
 out there when I was." 
 
 " No, he must have come just after you had 
 gone. He only remained a few months, you 
 know. He was a quiet young man with a 
 mania for cricket ; we liked him because he 
 set our young men their fashions and yet 
 never gave himself airs. I wonder if he's here 
 as well ?" ^ 
 
 " I don't think so. I know him by sight, 
 but I haven't seen him. I'm glad to hear he 
 didn't give himself airs ; you couldn't say the 
 same for the sister who Is here, though I only 
 know her by sight, too." 
 
 " He was quite a nice young man," said 
 Christina, shutting up her fan ; and as she 
 spoke the music, whose strains had reached 
 them all the time, came to its natural end. 
 
 The conservatory suffered instant invasion, 
 Christina and Mr. Holland being afforded the 
 entertainment of disappointing couple after 
 couple who came straight to their corner. 
 " We're in a coveted spot," whispered
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEASON. 53 
 
 Erskine ; and his sister-in-law reminded him 
 who had shown the way to it. It was less se- 
 cluded than remote, so the present occupiers 
 found further entertainment as mere specta- 
 tors. The same little things amused them 
 both ; this was one reason why they got on so 
 well together. They were amused by such 
 trifles as a distant prospect of Ruth, who was 
 innocently enjoying herself at the other end 
 of the conservatory, unaware of their eyes. 
 Erskine might have felt proud, and no doubt 
 he did, for many people considered Ruth even 
 prettier than Christina, with whom, however, 
 they were apt to confuse her, though Holland 
 himself could never see the likeness. He now 
 sat watchinor his wife in the distance while 
 talking to her sister at his side until a new 
 partner pounced upon Ruth, and bore her 
 away as the music began afresh. 
 
 "There goes my chaperon," remarked 
 Christina resignedly. 
 
 "Who's your partner now? I'm sorry to 
 say I see mine within ten yards of me," whis- 
 pered Erskine in some anxiety. 
 
 Tiny consulted her card. '" It's Herbert," 
 she said. 
 
 "Herbert!" said Mr. Holland dubiously.
 
 54 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " I'm afraid Herbert's going it ; he's deeply em- 
 ployed with a girl in red — I think an Ameri- 
 can. Shall I take you to Lady Almeric ? " 
 His eyes shifted uneasily toward his expect- 
 ant partner. 
 
 " No, I'll wait here for Herbert. • Mayn't I ? 
 Then I'm ofoing- to. You're sure to see him, 
 and you can send him at once. Don't blame 
 Ruth. What does it matter? It will matter 
 if you don't go this instant to your partner ; I 
 see it in her eye ! " 
 
 He left her reluctantly, with the undertak- 
 incr that Herbert should be at her side in two 
 minutes. But that was rash. Christina soon 
 had the conservatory entirely to herself, where- 
 upon she came out of her corner, so that her 
 brother might find her the more readily. Still 
 he kept her waiting, and she might as well have 
 been lonely in the corner. It was too bad of 
 Herbert to leave her standing there, where 
 she had no business to be by herself, and the 
 music and the throbbing of the floor within a 
 few yards of her. These awkward minutes 
 naturally began to disturb her. They checked 
 and cooled her in the full blast of healthy 
 excitement, and that was bad ; they threw her 
 back upon herself straight from her lightest
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEA SO I^. 55 
 
 mood, and this was worse. She became ab- 
 normally aware of her own presence as she 
 stood looking down and impatientl}^ tapping- 
 with her little white slipper upon the marble 
 Hags. Even about these there was the grand air 
 which Christina relished ; she might have seen 
 her face far below, as though she had been 
 standing in still v/ater ; but her thoughts had 
 been given a rough jerk inward, her outward 
 vision fell no deeper than the polished surface, 
 while her mind's eye saw all at once the dusty 
 veranda boards of Wallandoon. She stood 
 very still, and in her ears the music died away, 
 and through three months of travel and great 
 changes she heard aijain the nicrht-horse 
 champing in the yard, and the crickets chirp- 
 ine further aheld. And as she stood, her 
 head bowed b\' this sudden memory, footsteps 
 approached, and she looked up, expecting to 
 see Herbert. But it was not Herbert ; it was 
 a young man of more visible distinction than 
 Herbert Luttrell. It is difficult to look better 
 dressed than another in our evening mode ; 
 but this young man overcame the difficulty. 
 He stood erect ; he was well built ; his clothes 
 fitted beautifully ; he was himself nice look- 
 ing, and fair-haired, and bovish ; and, even
 
 5 6 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 more than his clothes, one admired his smile, 
 which was frank and delightful. But the smile 
 he gave Christina was followed by a blush, for 
 she had held out her hand to him, and asked 
 him how he was. 
 
 " I'm all right, thanks. But — this is the 
 most extraordinary thing ! Been over long ?" 
 
 He had dropped her hand. 
 
 "About a fortnight," said Christina, 
 
 " But what a pity to come over so late in 
 the season ! It's about done, you know." 
 
 " Yes. I thought there was a good deal 
 ofoinof on still." 
 
 "There's Henley, to be sure." 
 
 " I think I'm going to Henley." 
 
 " Goincr to the Eton and Harrow ?" 
 
 " I am not quite sure. That was your 
 match, wasn't it ?" 
 
 The young man blushed afresh. 
 
 "Fancy your remembering! Unfortunately 
 it wasn't my match, though ; my day out was 
 against Winchester." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Tiny, less knowingly. 
 
 " And how are you, Miss Luttrell ?" 
 
 This had been forgotten. Tiny reported 
 well of herself. Her friend hesitated ; there 
 was some nervousness in his manner, but his
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEASON. 57 
 
 good eyes never fell from her face, and pres- 
 ently he exclaimed, as though the idea had 
 just struck him : 
 
 " I say, mayn't I have this dance, Miss Lut- 
 trell — what's left of it ?" 
 
 " Thanks, I'm afraid I'm engaged for it." 
 
 "Then mayn't I find your partner for you ?" 
 
 Now this second request, or his anxious way 
 of making it, was an elaborate revelation to 
 Christina, and wrote itself in her brain. " Do 
 you remember Herbert ?" she, however, simply 
 replied. " He is the culprit." 
 
 "Your brother? Certainly I remember 
 him. I saw him a few minutes ago, and made 
 sure I had seen him somewhere before; but 
 he looks older. I don't fancy he's dancing. 
 He's somewhere or other with somebody in 
 red." 
 
 " So I hear." 
 
 " Then mayn't I have a turn with you 
 before it stops ?" 
 
 She hesitated as long as he had hesitated 
 before first askinof her ; there was not time to 
 hesitate longer. Then she took his arm, and 
 they passed through a narrow avenue of ferns 
 and flowers, round a corner, up some steps, 
 and so into the ball room.
 
 58 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 The waltz was indeed half over, but the 
 second half of it Christina and her fortuitous 
 partner danced together, without a rest, and 
 also without a word. He led her a more 
 enterprising measure than those previous part- 
 ners w^ho had questioned her concerning 
 Australia. The name of Australia had not 
 crossed this one's lips. As Tiny whirled and 
 glided on his arm she saw a good many eyes 
 upon her : they made her dance her best ; and 
 her best was the best in the room, though her 
 partner was uncommonly good, and they had 
 danced together before. Among the eyes 
 v/ere Ruth's, and they were beaming ; the 
 others were mostly inquisitive, and as strange 
 to Christina as she evidently was to them ; 
 but once a turn brought her face to face with 
 Herbert, on his way from the conservatory, 
 and alone. He was a lanky, brown-faced, 
 hook-nosed boy, with wiry limbs and an 
 aggressive eye, and he followed his sister 
 round the room with a stare of which she was 
 uncomfortably conscious. He had looked for 
 her too late, when forced to relinquish the girl 
 in red to her proper partner, who still seemed 
 put out. Christina was put out also, by her 
 brother's look, but she did not show it.
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEASON. 59 
 
 "You are staying In town?" her partner 
 said after the dance as they sat together in the 
 conservatory, but not in the old corner. 
 
 "Yes, with my sister, Mrs. Holland; you 
 never met her, I think. We are in town till 
 August." 
 
 " Where do you go then ?" 
 
 " To the country for a month. My sister 
 and her husband have taken a country rectory 
 for the whole of August. They had it last 
 year, and liked the place so much that they 
 have taken it again ; it is a little village called 
 Essinorham." 
 
 " Essingham ! " cried Christina's partner. 
 
 " Yes ; do you know it ? " 
 
 •' I know of it," answered the young man. 
 " I suppose you will go on the Continent after 
 that?" he added quickly. 
 
 "Well, hardly; my brother-in-law has so 
 little time ; but he expects to have to go to 
 Lisbon on business at the end of October, and 
 he has promised to take us with him." 
 
 " To Lisbon at the end of October," repeated 
 Tiny's friend reflectively. " Get him to take 
 you to C intra. They say it's well worth 
 seeing." 
 
 Yet another dance was beginning. Chris-
 
 6o TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 tina was interested in the movements of a 
 young man in spectacles, who was plainly in 
 search of somebody. " He's hunting for me," 
 she whispered to her companion, who was 
 saying : 
 
 " Portugal's rather the knuckle end of 
 Europe, don't you think ? But I've heard 
 Cintra well spoken of. I should go there if I 
 were you." 
 
 " We intend to. Do you mind pulling that 
 young man's coat tails ? He has forgotten my 
 face." 
 
 "Yes, I do mind," said Tiny's partner with 
 unexpected earnestness. " I may meet you 
 again, but I should like to take this opportu- 
 nity of explaining " 
 
 Tiny Luttrell was smiling in his face. 
 
 " I hate explanations !" she cried. "They 
 are an insult to one's imagination, and I much 
 prefer to accept things without them." There 
 was a gleam in her smile, but as she spoke 
 she flashed it upon the spectacles of her blind 
 pursuer, who was squaring his arm to her in 
 an instant. 
 
 And that was the last she saw of the only 
 partner for whom she had a good word after- 
 ward, and he had come to her by accident.
 
 THE TAIL OF THE SEASON. 6 1 
 
 But it was by no means the last she heard of 
 him. The next was from Herbert, as they 
 drove home together in one hansom, while 
 Ruth and her husband followed in another. 
 The morning air blew fresh upon their faces ; 
 the rising sun struck sparks from the harness ; 
 the leaves in the park were greener than any 
 in Australia, and the dew on the grass through 
 the railings was as a silver shower new-fallen. 
 But the most delicious taste of London that 
 had yet been given her was poisoned for 
 Christina by her brother Herbert. 
 
 "To have my claim jumped by that joker ! " 
 said he through his nose. 
 
 ■ " But you had left it empty," said Tiny 
 mildly. " I was all alone." 
 
 " It isn't so much that," her brother said, 
 shifting the ground he had taken in prelimi- 
 nary charges ; " it's your dancing with that 
 brute Manister !" 
 
 " My dear old Herbs," said Miss Luttrell 
 with provoking coolness, " Lord Manister 
 asked me to dance with him, and I didn't see 
 why I should refuse. I certainly didn't see 
 why I should consult you, Herbs." 
 
 "By ghost," cried Herbert, "if it comes to 
 that, he once asked you to marry him !"
 
 62 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 "Now you are a treat," said the girl, before 
 the blood came. 
 
 " And then bolted ! I should be ashamed 
 of myself for dancing with him if I were you. 
 He said I was a larrikin, too. I'd like to fill 
 his eye for him ! " 
 
 "He'll never say a truer thing!" Christina 
 cried out ; but her voice broke over the words, 
 and the early sun cut diamonds on her lashes. 
 
 Now this was Herbert : he was rough, but 
 not cowardly. His nose had become hooked 
 in his teens from a stand-up fight with a full- 
 grown man. There is not the least doubt that 
 in such a combat with Lord Manister that 
 nobleman, though otherwise a finer athlete, 
 would have suffered extremely. But it was 
 not in Herbert to hit any woman in cold blood 
 with his toneue. Havingr done this in his heat 
 to Christina, his mate, he was man enough to 
 be sorry and ashamed, and to slip her hands 
 into his, 
 
 " I'm an awful beast," he stammered out. 
 " I didn't mean anything at all — except that 
 I'd like to fill up Manister's eye ! I can't go 
 back on that when — when he called me a 
 larrikin ! "
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 
 
 Here is the difference between Ruth and 
 Christina, who were considered so much alike. 
 
 Of the tv/o, Ruth was the one to fall in love 
 with at sight — of which Erskine Holland sup- 
 plies the proof. She was less diminutive than 
 her sister ; she had a finer figure, a warmer 
 color, and indeed, despite the destructive Aus- 
 tralian sun, a very beautiful complexion. In 
 the early days at Wallandoon she had given 
 herself a better chance in this respect than 
 Christina had done, not from vanity at all, but 
 rather owing to certain differences in their 
 ideas of pleasure, into which it is needless to 
 enter. The result was her complexion; and 
 this was not her only beauty, for she had good 
 brown eyes that suited her coloring as autumn 
 leaves befit an autumn sunset. These eyes 
 are never unkind, but Ruth's were sweet-tem- 
 pered to a fault. So the glance of one scan- 
 ning both girls for the first time rested 
 naturally upon Ruth, but on all subsequent 
 
 «3
 
 64 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 occasions it flew straight to Christina, because 
 there was an end to Ruth ; but there was no 
 coming to an end of Tiny, about whom there 
 was ever some fresh thing to charm or disap- 
 point one. 
 
 Thus, but for the businesslike dispatch of 
 Erskine Holland, it might have been Ruth's 
 fate to break in Christina's admirers until 
 Christina fancied one of them enough to marry 
 him. For Ruth's was perhaps the more unself- 
 ish character of the two, as it was certainly 
 the simpler one, in spite of a peculiar secretive 
 strain in her from which Tiny was free. Tiny, 
 on the other hand, was much more sensitive ; 
 but to perceive this was to understand her 
 better than she understood herself. For she 
 did not know her own weaknesses as the self- 
 examining know theirs, and hardly anybody 
 suspected her of this one until her arrival in 
 Enoland — when Erskine Holland came to 
 treat her as a sister, and to understand her 
 more or less. 
 
 In Australia he had seen very little of her, 
 though enough to regard her at the time as an 
 arrant little heartless flirt, for whom sighed 
 silly swains innumerable. That she was, 
 indeed, a flirt there was still no denying ; but
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 65 
 
 as his knowledge of her ripened, Holland was 
 glad to unharness the opprobrious epithets 
 with which Ruth's sister had first driven her- 
 self into his mind. He discovered good points 
 in Christina, and among them a humor which 
 he had never detected out in Australia. Prob- 
 ably his own sense of it had lost its edge out 
 there, for love-making blunts nothing sooner ; 
 while Ruth, for her part, was naturally want- 
 ing in humor. Holland had never been blind 
 to this defect in his wife, but he seemed re- 
 signed to it ; one can conceive it to be a merit 
 in the wife of an amusing man. 
 
 Some people called Erskine amusing — it is 
 not hard to win this label from some people — 
 but at any rate he was never likely to find it 
 dif^cult to amuse Ruth. Now no companion 
 in this world is more charming for all time 
 than the person who is content to do the 
 laughing. As a novelty, however, Christina 
 had her own distinctive attraction for Erskine 
 Holland. And they got on so well together 
 that presently he saw more in Tiny than her 
 humor, which others had seen befo're him ; he 
 saw that her heart was softer than she thought ; 
 but he divined that something had happened 
 to harden it.
 
 66 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " She has been falling in love," he said to 
 Ruth — "and something has happened." 
 
 " What makes you think so ? She has told 
 me nothing about it," Ruth said. 
 
 " Ah, she is sensitive. I can see that, too. 
 It's her bitterness, however, that makes me 
 think something has turned out badly." 
 
 "She is sadly cynical." remarked Ruth. 
 
 " Cynically sad, I rather think," her husband 
 said. " I don't fancy she's languishing now ; I 
 should say she has got over the thing, what- 
 ever it has been — and is rather disappointed 
 with herself for getting over it so easily. She 
 has hinted at nothing, but she has a trick of 
 generalizing ; and she affects to think that one 
 person doesn't fret for another longer than a 
 week in real life. I don't say her cynicism is 
 so much affectation ; something or other has 
 left a bad taste in her mouth ; but I should 
 like to bet that it wasn't an affair of the most 
 serious sort." 
 
 " Her affairs never were very serious, Er- 
 skine." 
 
 " So I gathered from what I saw of her 
 before we were married. It's a pity," said 
 Erskine musingly. " I'd like to see her mar- 
 ried, but I'd love to see her wooed ! That's
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 6? 
 
 where the sport would come in. There would 
 be no knowing where the fellow had her. He 
 might hook her by luck, but he'd have to play 
 her like fun before he landed her ! There'd 
 be a strong sporting interest in the whole 
 thing, and that's what one likes." 
 
 " It's a pity I didn't know what you liked," 
 Ruth said, with a smile; "and a wonder that 
 you liked me, and not Tiny!" 
 
 " My darling," laughed her husband, " that 
 sort of sport's for the young fellows. I'm past 
 it. I merely meant that I should like to see 
 the sport. No, Tiny's charming in her way, 
 but God forbid that it should be your way 
 too ! " 
 
 Now Ruth was such a fond little wife that 
 at this speech she became too much gratified 
 on her own account to care to discuss her 
 sister any further. But in dismissing the sub- 
 ject of Tiny she took occasion to impress one 
 fact upon Erskine : 
 
 "You may be right, dear, and something 
 may have happened since I left home ; but I 
 can only tell you that Tiny hasn't breathed a 
 single word about it to me." 
 
 And this is an early sample of the disin- 
 genuous streak that was in the very grain of
 
 68 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Ruth. Christina, indeed, had told her nothing, 
 but Ruth knew nearly all that there was to 
 know of the affair whose traces were plain to 
 her husband's insight. Beyond the fact that 
 the name of Tiny Luttrell had been coupled 
 in Melbourne with that of Lord Manister, and 
 the on dit that Lord Manister had treated her 
 rather badly, there was, indeed, very little to 
 be known. But Ruth knew at least as much 
 as her mother, who had written to her on the 
 subject the more freely and frequently because 
 her younger daughter flatly refused the poor 
 ladv her confidence. There was no harm in 
 Ruth's not showing those letters to her hus- 
 band. There was no harm in her keeping her 
 sister's private affairs from her husband's 
 knowledge. There was the reverse of harm 
 in both reservations, as Erskine would have 
 been the first to allow. Ruth had her reasons 
 for making them ; and if her reasons embodied 
 a deep design, there was no harm in that 
 either, for surely it is permissible to plot and 
 scheme for the happiness of another. I can 
 see no harm in her conduct from any point of 
 view. But it was certainly disingenuous, and 
 it entailed an insincere attitude toward two 
 people, which in itself was not admirable.
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 69 
 
 And those two were her nearest. However 
 amiable her plans might be, they made it 
 impossible for Ruth to be perfectly sincere 
 with her husband on one subject, which was 
 bad enouofh. But with Christina it was still 
 more impossible to be at all candid ; and this 
 happened to be worse, for reasons which will 
 be recognized later. In the first place. Tiny 
 immediately discovered Ruth's insincerity, and 
 even her plans. Tiny was a difficult person 
 to deceive. She detected the insincerity in a 
 single conversation v^ith Ruth on the after- 
 noon following Lady Almeric's ball, and before 
 she went to bed she v-zas as much in posses- 
 sion of the plans as if Ruth had told her 
 them. 
 
 The conversation took place in Erskine's 
 study, where the sisters had foregathered for 
 a lazy afternoon. 
 
 "Oh, by the way," said Ruth, apropos of 
 the ball, " it was a coincidence your dancing 
 with Lord Manister." 
 
 " Why a coincidence ? " asked Christina. 
 She glanced rather sharply at Ruth as she 
 put the question. 
 
 '' Well, it is just possible that we shall see 
 something of him in the country. That's all,"
 
 7° TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 said Ruth, as she bent over the novel of which 
 she was cutting the pages. 
 
 Christina also had a book in her lap, but 
 she had not opened it ; she was trying to read 
 Ruth's averted face. 
 
 " I thought perhaps you meant because we 
 saw somethinof of him in Melbourne," she 
 said presently. " I suppose you know that 
 we did see something of him ? He even hon- 
 ored us once or twice." 
 
 " So you told me in your letters." 
 
 The paper knife was still at work. 
 
 " What makes it likely that we shall see 
 him in the country?" 
 
 " Well, Mundham Hall is quite close to 
 Essingham, you know." 
 
 " Mundham Hall ! Whose place is that ?'' 
 
 " Lord Dromard's," replied Ruth, still intent 
 upon her work. 
 
 " Surely not ! " exclaimed Christina. " Lord 
 Manister once told me the name of their place, 
 and I am convinced it wasn't that." 
 
 "They have several places. But until quite 
 lately they have lived mostly at the other side 
 of the county, at Wreford Abbey." 
 
 " That was the name." 
 
 " But they have sold that place," said Ruth,
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. ^1 
 
 "and last autumn Lord Dromard bought 
 Mundham ; it was empty when we were at 
 Essingham last year." 
 
 For some moments there was silence, 
 broken only by the leisurely swish of Ruth's 
 paper knife. Then Christina said, " That 
 accounts for it," thinking aloud. 
 
 " For what ?" asked Ruth rather nervously. 
 
 ** Lord Manister told me he knew of Essing- 
 ham. He never mentioned Mundham. Is it 
 so very close to your rectory?" 
 
 " The grounds are ; they are very big ; the 
 hall itself is miles from the gates — almost as 
 far as our home station was from the boundary 
 fence." 
 
 " Surely not," Tiny said quietly. 
 ■ ** Well, that's a little exaggeration, of 
 course." 
 
 " Then I wish it wasn't ! " Tiny cried out. 
 " I don't relish the idea of living under the lee 
 of such very fine people," she said next 
 moment, as quietly as before. 
 
 " No more do I — no more does Erskine," 
 Ruth made haste to declare. " But we 
 enjoyed ourselves so much there last August 
 that we said at the time that we would take 
 the rectory again this August. We made the
 
 72 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 people promise us the refusal. And it seemed 
 absurd to refuse just because Lord Dromard 
 had bouo-ht Mundham ; shouldn't you have 
 said so yourself, dear?" 
 
 " Certainly I should," answered Tiny ; and 
 for half an hour no more was said. 
 
 The afternoon was wet ; there was no 
 Inducement to go out, even with the neces- 
 sary energy, and the two young women, on 
 whose pillows the sun had lain before their 
 faces, felt anything but energetic. The after- 
 noon was also cold to Australian blood, and a 
 fire had been liorhted in Erskine's den. His 
 favorite armchair contained several cushions 
 and Christina — who might as well have worn 
 his boots — while Ruth, having cut all the 
 leaves of her volume, curled herself up on the 
 sofa with an obvious intention. She was good 
 at cutting the leaves of a new book, but still 
 better at going to sleep over them when cut. 
 She had read even less than Christina, and it 
 troubled her less ; but this afternoon she read 
 more. Ruth could not sleep. No more could 
 Tiny. But Tiny had not opened her book. 
 It was one of the good books that Erskine 
 had lent her. She was extremely interested 
 in it ; but just at present her own affairs
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 73 
 
 interested her more. Lying back in the big 
 chair, with the wet gray light behind her, and 
 that of the fire playing fitfully over her face, 
 Christina committed what was as )et an unu- 
 sual weakness for her, by giving way volunta- 
 rily to her thoughts. She was In the habit of 
 thinking as little as possible, because so many 
 of her thoughts were depressing company, 
 and beyond all things she disliked being 
 depressed. This afternoon she was less 
 depressed than indignant. 'I he firelight 
 showed her forehead strung with furrows. 
 From time to time she turned her eyes to the 
 sofa, as if to make sure that Ruth was still 
 awake, and as often as they rested there they 
 gleamed. At last she spoke Ruth's name. 
 
 " Well ?" said Ruth. " I thought you were 
 asleep ; you have never stirred." 
 
 " I'm not sleepy, thanks ; and, if you don't 
 mind, I should like to speak to you before 
 you drop off yourself." 
 
 Ruth closed her novel. 
 
 " What is it, dear ? I'm listening." 
 
 " When you wrote and invited me over 
 you mentioned Essingham as one of the 
 attractions. Now why couldn't you tell me 
 the Dromards would be our neighbors there?"
 
 74 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Ruth raised her eyes from the younger girl's 
 face to the rain-spattered window. Tin/s tone 
 was cold, but not so cold as Tiny's searching 
 glance. This made Ruth uncomfortable. It 
 did not incapacitate her, however. 
 
 " The Dromards : " she exclaimed rather 
 well. " Had they taken the place then ?" 
 
 " You say they bought it before Christmas ; 
 it was after Christmas that you first wrote 
 and expressly invited me." 
 
 " Was it ? Well, my dear, I suppose I 
 never thought of them ; that's all. They 
 aren't the only nice people thereabouts." 
 
 "I'm afraid you are not quite frank with 
 me," the young girl said ; and her own frank- 
 ness was a little painful. 
 
 " Tiny, dear, what a thing to say ! What 
 does it mean ?" 
 
 Ruth employed for these words the injured 
 tone. 
 
 " It means that you know as well as I do, 
 Ruth, that it isn't pleasant for me to meet 
 Lord Manister." 
 
 ^^ Was there something between you in 
 Melbourne?'* asked Ruth. " I must say that 
 nobody would have thought so from seeing 
 you together last night. And — and how was
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 75 
 
 I to think so, when you have never told me 
 anything about it ?" 
 
 Christina laughed bitterly. 
 
 " When you have made a fool of yourself 
 you don't go out of your way to talk about it, 
 even to your own people. It is kind of you 
 to pretend to know nothing about it — I am 
 sure you mean it kindly ; but I'm still surer 
 that you have been told all there was to tell 
 concernine Lord Manister and me. I don't 
 mean by Herbert. He's close. But the 
 mother must have written and told you some- 
 thing ; it was only natural that she should do 
 
 so. 
 
 " She did tell me a little. Herbert has told 
 me nothing. I tried to pump him, — I think 
 you can't wonder at that, — but he refused to 
 speak a word on the subject. He says he 
 hates it." 
 
 " He hates Lord Manister," said Christina, 
 smiling. " It came round to him once that 
 Lord Manister had called him a larrikin, and 
 he has never forgiven him. But he has been 
 less of a larrikin ever since. And, of course, 
 that wasn't why he was so angry with me for 
 dancing with Lord Manister last night ; he 
 was dreadfully angry with me as we drove
 
 76 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 hc/m^ , but he is a very good boy to me, and 
 there was something in what he said." 
 
 " What made you dance with him?" Ruth 
 said curiously. 
 
 " I was alone. I hadn't a partner. He 
 asked me rather prettily — he always had 
 pretty manners. You wouldn't have had me 
 show him I cared, by snubbing him, would 
 you ? " 
 
 " No," said Ruth thoughtfully ; and sud- 
 denly she slipped from the sofa, and was 
 kneelino- on the hearthrug, with her brown 
 eyes softly searching Christina's face and her 
 lips whispering, "Do you care. Tiny? Do 
 you care. Tiny, dear ? " 
 
 Tiny snapped her fingers as she pushed 
 back her chair. 
 
 " Not that much for anybody — much less 
 for Lord Manister, and least of all for myself ! 
 Now don't you be too good to me, Ruth ; if 
 you are you'll only make me feel ungrateful, 
 and I shall run away, because I'm not going 
 to tell you another word about what's over 
 and done with. I can't ! I have got over 
 the whole thing, but it has been a sickener. 
 It makes me sick to think about it. I don't 
 want ever to speak of it again."
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 77 
 
 '* I understand," said Ruth ; but there was 
 disappointment in her look and tone, and she 
 added, " I should like to have heard the truth, 
 though ; and no one can tell it me but you." 
 
 "I thank Heaven for that!" cried Chris- 
 tina piously. "The version out there was 
 that he proposed to me and I accepted him, 
 and then he bolted without even saying good- 
 by. It's true that he didn't say good-by ; 
 the rest is not true. But you must just make 
 it do." 
 
 Her face was scarlet with the shame of it 
 all ; but there was no sign of weakness in the 
 curling lips. She spoke bitterly, but not at all 
 sadly, and her next words were still more sug- 
 gestive of a wound to the vanity rather than 
 to the heart. 
 
 "Does Erskine know?" 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
 " Honestly?" 
 
 " Quite honestly ; at least I have never 
 mentioned it to him, and I don't- think any- 
 body else has, or lie would have mentioned it 
 to me." 
 
 "Oh, Herbert wouldn't say anything. Her- 
 bert's very close. But — don't you two tell 
 each other everything, Ruth?"
 
 7S TINY UITTRELL. 
 
 The young girl looked incredulous ; the 
 married woman smiled. 
 
 " Hardly everything, you know ! Erskine 
 has lots of relations himself, for instance, and 
 I'm sure he wouldn't care to tell me the ins 
 and outs of their private affairs, even if I 
 cared to know them. It's just the same about 
 you and your affairs, don't you see." 
 
 " Except that he knows me so well," Chris- 
 tina reflected aloud, with her eyes upon the fire. 
 " If I had a husband," she added impulsively, 
 " I should like to tell him every mortal thing, 
 whether I wanted to or not ! And I should 
 like not to want to, but to be made. But that's 
 because I should like above all thino-s to be 
 bossed !" 
 
 " You would take some bossing," suggested 
 Ruth. 
 
 " That's the Avorst of it," said Christina, 
 with a little sigh, and then a laugh, as she 
 snatched her eyes from the fire. " But I can't 
 tell you how glad I am you haven't told 
 Erskine. Never tell him, Ruth, for you don't 
 know how I covet his good opinion. I like 
 him, you know, dear, and I rather think he 
 likes me — so far." 
 
 " Indeed he does," cried Ruth warmly ; and
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 79 
 
 a good point in her character stood out through 
 the genuine words. " Nothing ever made me 
 happier than to see you become such friends." 
 
 " He laughs at me a good deal," Tiny 
 remarked doubtfully. 
 
 " That's because you amuse him a good 
 deal. I can't get him to laugh at me, my dear." 
 
 "He would laugh," said Christina, with her 
 eyes on the fire again, " if you told him I had 
 aspired to Lord Manister!" 
 
 "But I'm not going to tell him anything at 
 all about it." Ruth paused. "And after all, 
 the Dromards won't take any notice of us in 
 the country." She paused again. " And we 
 won't speak of this any more, Tiny, if you 
 don't like." 
 
 The shame had come back to Christina's 
 face as she bent it toward the fire. Twice 
 she had made no answer to what was kindly 
 meant and even kindlier said. But now she 
 turned and kissed Ruth, saying, " Thank you, 
 dear. I am afraid I don't like. But you have 
 been awfully good and sweet about it — as 
 I shan't forget." And the fire lit their faces 
 as they met, but the tear that had got upon 
 Tiny's cheek was not her own, 
 
 Ruth, you see, could be tender and sympa-
 
 8o TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 thetic and genuine enough. But she could 
 not be sensible and let well alone. 
 
 She did that night a very foolish thing : she 
 brought up the subject again. Tempted she 
 certainly was. Never since her arrival in 
 England had Tiny seemed so near to her or 
 she to Tiny as in the hours immediately fol- 
 lowing the chat between them in Erskine's 
 study. But Christina stood further from Ruth 
 than Ruth imagined ; she had not advanced, 
 but retreated, before the glow of Ruth's sym- 
 pathy. This was after the event, when some 
 hours separated Christina from those emotional 
 moments to which she had not contributed her 
 share of the emotion, leaving the scene upon 
 her mind in just perspective. She still could 
 value Ruth's sweetness at the end of their 
 talk, but her own suspicions, aroused at the 
 outset, to be immediately killed by a little 
 kindness, had come to life again, and were 
 calling for an equal appreciation. The extent 
 of Tiny's suspicions was very full, and the 
 suspicions themselves were uncommonly 
 shrewd and convincing. They made it a little 
 hard to return Ruth's smiles during the even- 
 ing, and to kiss her when saying good-night, 
 though Tiny did these things duly. She went
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 8l 
 
 Upstairs before her time, however, and not at 
 all in the mood to be bothered any further 
 about Lord Manister. Yet she behaved very 
 patiently when Ruth came presently to her 
 room and thus bothered her, being suddenly 
 tempted beyond her strength. For Christina 
 was discovered standing fully dressed under 
 the gas-bracket, and frowning at a certain pho- 
 tograph on an orange-colored mount, which 
 she turned face downward as Ruth entered. 
 Whereupon Ruth, discerning the sign man- 
 ual of a Melbourne photographer, could not 
 help saying slyly, " Who is it. Tiny ? " 
 
 " A friend of mine," Tiny said, also slyly, 
 but keeping the photograph itself turned pro- 
 vokingly to the fioor, 
 
 " In Australia ? " 
 
 " Er — it was taken out there." 
 
 " It's Lord Manister ! " 
 
 " Perhaps it is — perhaps it isn't." . 
 
 " Tiny," said Ruth with pathos, " you 
 might show me ! " 
 
 But Tiny drummed vexatiously on the wrong 
 side of the mount ; and here Ruth surely should 
 have let the matter drop, instead of which : 
 
 "You are very horrid," she said, "but I 
 must just tell you something. I have heard
 
 82 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 things from Lady Almeric, who is very 
 intimate with Lady Dromard, and I don't 
 beHeve he is so much to blame as you think 
 him. I have heard it spoken about in society. 
 But don't look frightened. Your name has 
 never been mentioned. I don't think it has 
 ever come out. Indeed, I know it hasn't, for 
 /, actually, have been asked the name of the 
 girl Lord Manister was fond of in Melbourne 
 — by Lady Almeric ! " 
 
 " And what did you say ? " 
 
 " What do you suppose ? I glory in that 
 fib — I am honestly proud of it. But, dear, the 
 point is, not that Lord Manister has never 
 mentioned your name, but that he can bear 
 neither name nor sight of the girl he is 
 expected to marry ! Lady Almeric told 
 me when — I couldn't help her." 
 
 "He is a nice young man, I must say!" 
 remarked Christina griml}^ " My fellow- 
 victim has a title, no doubt ?" 
 
 " Well, it's Miss Garth, and her father's 
 Lord Acklam, so she's the honorable," said 
 Ruth gravely. (Tiny smiled at her gravity.) 
 " But I've seen her, and — he can't like her ! 
 And oh ! Tiny dear, they all say he left his 
 heart in Australia, but his mother sent for him
 
 RUTH AND CHRISTINA. 83 
 
 because she heard something — but not your 
 name, dear — and he came. They say he is 
 devoted to his mother; but this has come 
 between them, and she's sorry she interfered, 
 because after all he won't marry poor Miss 
 Garth. I had it direct from Lady Almeric 
 when she tried to get that out of me. But I 
 lied like a trooper ! " exclaimed poor Ruth. 
 
 " I'm grateful to you for that," Christina 
 said, not ungraciously — " but I must reJly be 
 going to bed." 
 
 With a last wistful glance at the orange- 
 colored cardboard, Ruth took the hint. 
 Christina turned away in time to avoid an 
 embrace without showing her repugnance, 
 because she had still some regard for Ruth's 
 good heart. But she had never experienced a 
 more grateful riddance, and the look that fol- 
 lowed Ruth to the threshold would have kept 
 her company for some time had she turned 
 there and caught one glimpse of it. 
 
 " Now I understand !" said Christina to the 
 closed door. " I suppose I ought to love you 
 for it, Ruth ; but I don't — no, I don't !" 
 
 She turned the photograph face upward, 
 and stared thoughtfully at it for some minutes 
 longer ; then she put it away.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. 
 
 EssiNGHAM Rectory, which the Erskine Hol- 
 lands had taken for the month of August, was 
 a little old building with some picturesque 
 points to console one for the tameness of the 
 view from its windows. The surrounding 
 country was perfectly flat but for Gallow Hill, 
 and not at all green but for the glebe and the 
 riverside meadows, while the only trees of any 
 account were the rectory elms and those in 
 the Mundham grounds. It is true that on 
 Gallow Hill three wind-crippled beeches bran- 
 dished their deformities against the sky, as 
 they may do still ; but the country around 
 Essingham is no country for trees. It is the 
 country for warrens and rabbits and roads 
 without hedges. So it struck Christina as 
 more like the back-blocks than anything she 
 had hoped to see in England, and pleased her 
 more than anything she had seen. She 
 showed her pleasure before they arrived at 
 
 84
 
 ES SINGH AM RECTORY. 85 
 
 Essingham. She forgot to disparage the old 
 country during the long drive from the county- 
 town ; and that was notable. She had actu- 
 ally no stone to cast at the elaborate and 
 impressive gates of Mundham Hall ; appa- 
 rently she was herself impressed. But oppo- 
 site the gates they turned to the left, into a 
 narrow road with hedges, from which you can 
 see the rectory, and as Herbert put it after- 
 ward : 
 
 "That's what knocked our Tiny !" 
 For the girl's first glimpse of the old house 
 was over the hedge and far away above a bril- 
 liant sash of meadow green. The cream- 
 colored walls were aglow in the low late sun- 
 shine, what was to be seen of them, for they 
 were half hidden by a creeper almost as old as 
 themselves. The red-tiled, weather-beaten 
 roof was dark with age. Even at a distance 
 one smelt rats in the wainscot within the 
 stuccoed walls. Around the house, and tow- 
 ering above the tiles, the elms stood as still 
 against the evening sky as the square church 
 tower but a little way to the right. To the 
 right of that, but farther away, rose Gallow 
 Hill. Thereabouts the sun was sinking, but 
 the clock on the near side of the church tower
 
 86 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 had gilt hands, which marked the hour when 
 Christina stood up in the fly and astonished 
 her friends with her frank deHght. It was a 
 point against this young lady, on subsequent 
 occasions when she did not forget to decry the 
 old country, that at ten minutes past seven 
 on the evening of the ist of August she had 
 given way to enthusiasm over a scene that was 
 purely English and very ordinary in itself. 
 
 Not that her immediate appreciation of the 
 place became modified on a closer acquaint- 
 ance with it. At the end of the first clear 
 day at Essingham she informed the others 
 that thus far she had not enjoyed herself so 
 much since leaving Australia. Of course she 
 had enjoyed herself in London, That did not 
 count. London only compared itself with 
 Melbourne, Christina did not care how favor- 
 ably ; but Essingham was for comparison with 
 the place that was dearer to her than any 
 other in the world. You will understand why 
 all her appreciations were directly comparative. 
 This is natural in the very young, and fortu- 
 nately Tiny Luttrell was still very young in 
 some respects. Blessed with observant eyes, 
 and having at this time an irritable memory 
 to keep her prejudices at attention, her mind
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. 87 
 
 soon became the scene of many curious and 
 specific contests between England and Aus- 
 tralia. In the match between Wallandoon and 
 Essingham the latter made a better fight than 
 you would think against so strong an oppo- 
 nent. The rectory was homely and conven- 
 ient in its old age, and Christina was greatly 
 charmed with her own room, because it was 
 small ; and if the wall-paper was modern and 
 conventional, and not to be read from the pil- 
 low in the early morning, it was almost as 
 pleasant to lie and watch the elm tops trem- 
 bling against the sky. And if the sky was not 
 really blue in England, the leaves in Austra- 
 lia were not really green, as Christina now 
 knew. So there they were quits. But Eng- 
 land and Essingham scored palpably in some 
 things ; the kitchen garden was one. Chris- 
 tina had never seen such a kitchen garden ; 
 she found it possible to spend half an hour 
 there at any time, to her further contentment ; 
 and there were other attractions on the prem- 
 ises, which were just as good in their wa3% 
 while their way was often better for one. 
 
 For instance, there was a lawn tennis court 
 which satisfied the soul of Erskine, who played 
 daily for its express refreshment. That was
 
 88 TINY LUTTRELL 
 
 what brought him to Essingham. The neigh- 
 boring clergy were always ready for a game. 
 But they laughed at Erskine for being so 
 keen ; he would get up before breakfast to roll 
 the court, which passed their understanding. 
 Christina played also, by no means ill, and 
 Herbert uncommonly well ; but this player 
 neither won nor lost very prettily. He was 
 more amiable over the photography which he 
 had taken up in partnership with Tiny ; but 
 his photographs were uncommonly bad. Yet 
 this was another amusement in the country, 
 where, however, Christina was most amused 
 by the neighbors who called. These were 
 friendly people, and they had all called on the 
 Hollands the previous year. Half of them 
 were clergymen, though the stranger who met 
 them found this difficult to believe in some 
 cases ; the other half were the clergymen's 
 wives. Very grand families apart, there is no 
 other society round about Essingham. And 
 what could man wish better ? Even Christina 
 found it impossible to disapprove of the well- 
 bred, easy-going, tennis-playing, unprofes- 
 sional country clergy, as acquaintances and 
 friends. But she did find fault with the rec- 
 tor of Essingham as a rector, though she had
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. 89 
 
 never seen him, and though Ruth assured her 
 that he was a dear old man. 
 
 " He may be a dear old man," Miss Luttrell 
 would allow, " but he's a bad old rector ! His 
 flock don't find him such a dear old man, 
 either. They only see him once a week, in 
 the pulpit ; and then they can't hear him ! " 
 
 " Who has been telling you that, Tiny ? " 
 asked Ruth. 
 
 "You've been talking sedition in the vil- 
 lage !" said Erskine Holland. 
 
 " Well, I've been making friends with two 
 or three of the people, if that' s what you call 
 talking sedition," Tiny replied; " and I think 
 your dear old rector neglects them shamefully. 
 He does worse than that. There's some fund 
 or other for buying coals and blankets for the 
 poor of the parish ; and there's old Mrs. Clap- 
 perton. Mrs. Clapperton's a Roman Catho- 
 lic ; so, if you please, she never gets her coals 
 or blankets, and she's too proud to ask for 
 them. That's a fact — and I tell you what, I'd 
 like to expose your dear old man, Ruth ! As 
 for the village, if it's a specimen of your 
 English villages, let me tell you, Erskine, that 
 it's leagues behind the average bush township. 
 Why, they haven't even got a state school,
 
 90 TINY LUTTRELL, 
 
 but only a one-horse affair run by the rector! 
 And the schoohiiaster's the most ignorant man 
 in the village. I wonder you don't copy us, 
 and go in for state schools ! " 
 
 " ' Copy us, and go in for state schools,' " 
 echoed Ruth with gentle mirth, as she some- 
 times would echo Tiny's remarks, and with a 
 smile that traveled from Tiny to Erskine. 
 But Erskine did not return the smile. His 
 eyes rested shrewdly upon Christina, and 
 Ruth feared from their expression that he 
 thought the girl an utter fool ; but she was 
 wrong. 
 
 Christina was not, if you like, an intellectual 
 girl, but she was by no means a fool. Neither 
 was her brother-in-law, who perceived this. 
 Her comments on the books he lent her were 
 sufficiently intelligent, and she pleased him in 
 other ways too. He was glad, for instance, 
 to see her interesting herself in the local peas- 
 ants ; he was particularly glad that she did 
 not give this interest its head, though as a 
 matter of fact it never pulled. Christina was 
 not the girl for interests that gallop and have 
 not legs. Not the least of her attractions, in 
 the eyes of a male relative of middle age, was 
 a certain solid sanity that showed through
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. 91 
 
 ever}^ crevice of her wayward nature. It was 
 sanity of the cynical sort, which men appre- 
 ciate most. And it was least apparent in her 
 own actions, which is the weak point of the 
 cynically sane. 
 
 " At all events. Tiny, you can't find the 
 country a tight fit, like London," said Erskine 
 once, during the first few days. " Come, 
 now ! 
 
 "No," replied Tiny thoughtfully, "I must 
 own it doesn't fit so tigrht. But it tickles ! 
 You mayn't go here and you mayn't go there ; 
 in Australia you may go anywhere you darn 
 please. Excuse me, Erskine, but I feel this a 
 good deal. Only this morning Ruth and I 
 were blocked by a notice board just outside 
 the wicket at the far end of the churchyard ; 
 we were thinking of going up Gallow Hill, 
 but we had to turn back, as trespassers would 
 be prosecuted. There's no trespassing where 
 I come from. And Ruth says the board wasn't 
 there last year." 
 
 " Ah, the Dromards weren't there last year ! 
 They've stuck it up. You should pitch into 
 your friend Lord Manister. It's rather vexa- 
 tious of them, I grant you ; they can't want to 
 have tea on Gallow Hill ; and it's a pity,
 
 92 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 because there's a fine view of the Hall from 
 the top." 
 
 "Indeed? Ruth never told me that," 
 remarked Christina curiously. " Have they 
 arrived yet ? " slie added in apparent idleness. 
 
 " Last night, I hear — if you mean the 
 Dromards. And a rumor has arrived with 
 them." 
 
 Now Christina was careful not to inquire 
 what the rumor was; but Erskine told her ; 
 and, oddly enough, what he had. heard and 
 now repeated was to come true immediately. 
 
 The great family at Mundham were about 
 to entertain the county. That was the whis- 
 per, which was presently to be spoken aloud as 
 a pure fact. It ran over the land with " At 
 last ! " hissing at its heels, and a still more sin- 
 ister whisper chased the pair of them ; for the 
 Dromards might have entertained the county 
 months before ; a house-warming had been 
 expected of them in the winter, but they had 
 chosen to warm Mundham with their own 
 friends from a distance ; and since then the 
 general election had become a moral certainty 
 for the following spring, and — the point was — 
 Viscount Manister had declared his willing- 
 ness to stand for the division. The corollary
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. 93 
 
 was irresistible, but so, it appears, was Countess 
 Dromard's invitation, which few are beHeved 
 to have declined — for those tliat did so made 
 it known. Some disgust, however, was ex- 
 pressed at the kind of entertainment, which, 
 after all, was to be nothing more than a garden 
 party. But nearly all who were bidden 
 accepted. The notice, too, was shorter than 
 other people would have presumed to give ; 
 but other people were not the Dromards. 
 The countess' invitation conveyed to a hun- 
 dred country homes a joy that was none the 
 less keen for a certain shame or shyness in 
 showing any sort of satisfaction in so small a 
 matter. Nevertheless, though not adorned by 
 a coronet, as it might have been, nor in any 
 way a striking trophy, the card obtained a 
 telling position over many a rectory chimney- 
 piece, where in some instances it remained, 
 accidentally, for months. In justice to the 
 residents, however, it must be owned that not 
 one of them read it with a more poignant 
 delight, nor adjusted it in the mirror with a 
 nicer care and a finer show of carelessness, nor 
 gazed at it oftener while ostensibly looking at 
 the clock, than did Mrs. Erskine Holland dur- 
 ing the next ten days.
 
 94 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 But when it came she acted cleverly. There 
 was occasion for all her cleverness, because in 
 her case the invitation was a complete surprise ; 
 she had not dared to expect one ; and you may 
 imagine her peculiar satisfaction at receiving an 
 invitation that embraced her " party." Yet she 
 was able to toss the card across the breakfast 
 table to Erskine, merely remarking, " Should 
 we go ? " And when Tiny at once stated that 
 for her part she was not keen, Ruth gave her 
 a sympathetic look, as much as to say, *' No 
 more am I, my dear," which might have 
 deceived a less discerning person. But Tiny 
 saw that her sister was holding her breath 
 until Erskine spoke his mind. 
 
 " Have we any other engagement ? " said 
 he directly. "If not, it would hardly do to 
 stick here playing tennis within sight of their 
 lodge. I'm no more keen than you are. Tiny, 
 but that would look uncommon poor. It was 
 very kind of them to think of asking us ; I'm 
 afraid we must go ; but I am sure you will 
 find it amusing." 
 
 " Thanks," replied Christina, to whom this 
 assurance was addressed, " but you needn't 
 send me there to be amused ; you see, I have 
 plenty to amuse me here/' she added, with a
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. 95 
 
 smile that had been slow to come. " I'll 
 go, of course, and with pleasure ; but there 
 would be more pleasure in some hard sets 
 with you, Erskine, or in taking your photo- 
 graph." 
 
 "Ah, you don't know what you'd miss, 
 Tiny ! I can promise you some sport, if you 
 keep your eyes and ears open. Then you 
 knew Lord Manister in Melbourne. In any 
 case, you oughtn't to go back there without a 
 glimpse of some of our fine folks at home, 
 when you can get it." 
 
 " Oh, I'll go ; but not for the sport of see- 
 ing your clergy and gentry on their knees to 
 your fine folks, nor yet to be amused. As for 
 Lord Manister, he was well enough in Mel- 
 bourne ; he didn't give himself airs, and there 
 he was wise. But on his native heath ! One 
 would be sorry to set foot on the same soil. 
 It must be sacred." 
 
 " Come, I say, I don't think you'll find the 
 parsons on their knees. We think a lot of a 
 lord, if you like ; but we try to forget that 
 when we're talking to him. We do our best 
 to treat him as though he were merely a 
 gentleman, you know," said Erskine, smiling, 
 but giving, as he felt, an informing hint.
 
 96 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 "Ah, you try !" said Christina. "You do 
 your best ! " 
 
 "Our best may be very bad," laughed 
 Erskine ; " if so, you must show us how to 
 better it, Tiny." 
 
 " I should get Tiny to teach you how to 
 treat a lord, dear," said Ruth, who saw 
 nothing to laugh at, and seemed likely to lend 
 her husband a severer support than the occa- 
 sion needed. 
 
 " Say Lord Manister ! " suggested Erskine. 
 ''Will you show me on him?" 
 
 " I may if you're good — you wait and see," 
 said Tiny lightly. And lightly the matter 
 was allowed to drop. For Herbert, as usual, 
 was late for breakfast, which was for once a 
 very good thing ; and as for Ruth, it was 
 merely her misfortune to have a near sight for 
 the line dividing chaff from earnest, but now 
 she saw it, and on which side of it the others 
 were, for she had joined them and was laugh- 
 ing herself. 
 
 But Herbert would not have laughed at all ; 
 indeed, he had not a smile for the subject 
 when he did come down and Ruth orave him 
 his breakfast alone. It seemed well that 
 Christina was not in the room. Her brother
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. 97 
 
 took the opportunity of saying what he 
 thought of Manister, and what Manister had 
 once called him behind his back, and what he 
 would have done to Manister's eye had half as 
 much been said to his face. His personal 
 decision about the garden party was merely 
 contemptuous. He was not going. Nor did he 
 go when the time came. Meanwhile, however, 
 something happened to modify for the mo- 
 ment his opinion of the young viscount whom 
 it was Herbert's meager satisfaction to abuse 
 roundly whenever his noble name was spoken. 
 Having been provided with two rooms at 
 the rectory, in one of which he was expected 
 to read diligently every morning, Herbert 
 entered that room only when his pipe needed 
 filling. He kept his tobacco there, and also, 
 to be sure, his books ; but these he never 
 opened. He read nothing, save chance items 
 in an occasional sporting paper; he simply 
 smoked and pottered, leaving the smell of his 
 pipe in the least desirable places. When he 
 took photographs with Tiny, that was pot- 
 terinof too, for neither of them knew much 
 about it, and Herbert was too indolent to take 
 either pains or care in a pursuit which essen- 
 tially demands both. He had rather a good
 
 95 rmV LUTTRELL. 
 
 eye for a subject ; he could arrange a picture 
 with some judgment. That interested him, 
 but the subsequent processes did not, and 
 these invariably spoilt the plate. All his ac- 
 tions, however, suggested an underlying the- 
 ory that what is worth doing is not necessarily 
 worth doing well. This applied even to his 
 games, about which Herbert was really keen ; 
 he played lawn tennis carelessly, though with 
 a verve and energy somewhat surprising in the 
 loafing, smoking idler of the morning. He 
 had been fond of cricket, too, in Australia ; 
 it was a disappointment to him that no cricket 
 was to be had at Essingham. He looked 
 forward to Cambridge for the athletic advan- 
 tages. He had no intention of reading there ; 
 so what, he wanted to know, was the oood of 
 his reading here? Certainly Herbert had 
 entered at an accommodating college, which 
 would receive young men quite free from pre- 
 vious knowledge ; but he might have been 
 reading for his little-go all this time ; and he 
 never read a word. 
 
 But one morning he loitered afield, and 
 came back enthusiastic about a place for a 
 photograph ; the next. Tiny and the imple- 
 ments were dragged to the spot ; and really it
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. 99 
 
 was not bad. It was a scene on the little 
 river just below Mundham bridge. The thick 
 white rails of the bridge standing out against 
 a clump of trees in the park beyond, the single 
 arch with the dark water underneath and some 
 sunlit ripples twinkling at the further side, 
 seemed to call aloud for a camera ; and Her- 
 bert might have used his to some purpose, for 
 a change, had he not forgotten to fill his slides 
 with plates before leaving home. This discov- 
 ery was not made until the bridge was in focus, 
 and it put young Luttrell in the plight of a 
 rifleman who has sighted the bull's-eye with 
 an empty barrel. It was a question of return- 
 ing to the rectory to load the slides or of 
 giving up the photograph altogether. On 
 another occasion, having forgotten the lens, 
 Herbert had packed up the camera and gone 
 back in disgust. But that happened nearer 
 home. To-day he had carried the camera a 
 good mile. Two journeys with something to 
 show for them were preferable to one with a 
 tired arm for the only result. Within a min- 
 ute after the slides were found empty Chris- 
 tina was alone in the meadow below the 
 bridge ; Herbert had found it impossible to 
 give up the photograph altogether.
 
 lOO TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 The girl had not lost patience, for she was 
 herself partly to blame. There were, however, 
 still better reasons for her resienation. She 
 happened to have the second volume of " The 
 Newcomes " in her jacket pocket, and the little 
 river seemed to ripple her an invitation from 
 the bridge to make herself comfortable with 
 her book in its shade. There was no great 
 need for shade, but the idea seemed sensible. 
 With her hand on the book in her pocket, and 
 her eyes hovering about the bridge for the 
 coolest corner, she felt perhaps a little ashamed 
 as she thought of Herbert making a cool da}^ 
 hot by running back alone for what they had 
 both forgotten. It was hardly this feeling, 
 however, that kept her standing where she 
 was. 
 
 She had known no finer day in England. 
 The light was strong and limpid, the shadows 
 abrupt and deep. The sky was not cloudless, 
 but the clouds were thin and clean. There 
 was a refreshing amount of wind ; the tree 
 tops beyond the bridge swayed a little against 
 the sky ; the focusing cloth flapped between 
 the tripod legs, and for some minutes the girl 
 stood absently imbibing all this, without a 
 thought in her head.
 
 ESSINGHAM RECTORY. lOl 
 
 Presently she found herself wondering 
 whether there was enough movement in the 
 trees to mar a photograph ; later she tucked 
 her head under the cloth to see. As she ex- 
 amined the inverted picture on the ground 
 glass, she held the cloth loosely over her head 
 and round her neck. But suddenly she twitched 
 it tighter. For first the sound of wheels 
 had come to her ears. Then a dogcart had 
 been pulled up on the bridge. And now on 
 the focusing screen a figure was advancing 
 upside down, like a fly on the ceiling, and 
 doubling its size with each stride, until there 
 occurred a momentary eclipse of the inverted 
 landscape by Lord Manister, who had stalked 
 in broad daylight to our Tiny's side.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A MATTER OF ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 The focusinof cloth clungf to her head like 
 a cowl as she raised it and bowed. There 
 must have been nervousness on both sides, for 
 the moment, but it did not prevent Lord Man- 
 ister from taking off his hat with a sweep and 
 swiftness that amounted almost to a flourish, 
 nor Christina from noticing this and his clothes. 
 He was so admirably attired in summer gray 
 that she took pleasure in reflecting that she 
 was herself unusually shabby, her idea being 
 that contact with the incorrect was rather good 
 for him. Correctness of anv kind, it is to be 
 feared, was ridiculously wrong in her eyes. 
 Otherwise she might have been different her- 
 self. 
 
 "I knew it was you!" Lord Manister 
 declared, having shaken her hand. 
 
 "How could you know ?" said Christina, 
 smiling. " You must be very clever." 
 
 " I wish I was. No ; I met your brother
 
 A MATTER OF ANCIENT HISTORY. 103 
 
 running like anything with some wooden 
 things under his arm. He wouldn't see me, 
 but I saw him. I was going to pull up, but 
 he wouldn't see me." 
 
 Miss Luttrell explained that her brother 
 had gone back for plates, which they had both 
 very stupidly forgotten ; she added that she 
 was sure he could not have recognized Lord 
 Manister. 
 
 " Plates ! " said this nobleman. " Ah, 
 they're important, I know." 
 
 " Well, they're your cartridges ; you can't 
 shoot anything without them." 
 
 Lord Manister gave a louder laugh than the 
 remark merited ; then he studied his boots 
 amonpf the daisies. Christina smiled as she 
 watched him, until he looked up briskly, and 
 nearly caught her. 
 
 " I say, Miss Luttrell, I should like im- 
 mensely to be on in this scene, if you would 
 let me ! I mean to say I should like to see 
 the thing taken. Perhaps you could do with 
 the trap and my mare on the bridge ; she's 
 something special, I assure you. And I have 
 been thinking — if you think so too — that my 
 man might go back for your brother and 
 give him a lift. It must be monstrous hot
 
 I04 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 walking. It's a monstrous hot day, you 
 know." 
 
 This was not only an exaggeration, but a 
 puff of smoke revealing hidden fires within the 
 young man's head. Christina fanned the fire 
 until it tinged his cheek by willfully hesitating 
 before giving him a gracious answer. For 
 when she spoke it was to say, with a smile at 
 his anxiety, " Really, you are very considerate, 
 Lord Manister, and I am sure Herbert will bis 
 grateful." They walked to the bridge, and 
 stood upon it the next minute, watching the 
 dogcart swing out of sight where the road 
 bent. 
 
 "Your brother is very likely halfway back 
 by this time," remarked Lord Manister, who 
 would have been very sorry to believe what 
 he was saying. " I dare say my man will pick 
 him up directly; if so, they'll be back in a 
 minute." 
 
 "I hope they will," said Christina — "the 
 light is so excellent just now," she was in a 
 hurry to add. 
 
 " Ah, the light in Australia was better for 
 this sort of thinof." 
 
 " As a rule, yes ; but it would surely be dif- 
 ficult to beat this morning anywhere ; the
 
 A MATTER OF ANCIENT HISTORY. 105 
 
 great thing is, over here, that you are so free 
 from olare." 
 
 O 
 
 " Then you Hke England ?" 
 
 " Well, I must say I like this corner 
 of England ; I haven't seen much else, you 
 know." 
 
 "Good! I am glad you like this corner ; 
 you know it's ours," said the young fellow 
 simply. Then he paused. " How strange to 
 meet you here, though ! " he added, as if he 
 could not help it, nor the slight stress that 
 laid itself upon the personal pronoun. 
 
 " It should rather strike me as strange to 
 meet you," Miss Luttrell replied pointedly ; 
 " for I am sure I told you that my sister and 
 her husband had taken Essingham Rectory 
 for August. You may have forgotten the 
 occasion. It was in London." 
 
 " Dear me, no, I'm not likely to forget it. 
 To be sure you told me — at Lady Almeric's." 
 
 " Then perhaps you remember saying that 
 you knew ^Essingham ?" 
 
 It was not, perhaps, because this was very 
 dryly said that Lord Manister smiled. Nor 
 was the smile one of his best, which were 
 charming ; it was visibly the expression of his 
 nervousness, not his mirth.
 
 io6 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Yes, I am sorry to say I do remember 
 that," he confessed with an awkwardness and 
 humility which made Christina tingle in a sud- 
 den appreciation of his position in the world. 
 " It was very fooKsh of me, Miss Luttrell." 
 
 " I wonder what made you ? " remarked 
 Christina reflectively, but in a friendlier tone. 
 
 "Ah! don't wonder," he said impatiently. 
 His eyes fell upon her for one moment, 
 then wandered down the road, as he added 
 strangely : "You do and say so many foolish 
 things without a decent why or wherefore. 
 They're the things for which you never for- 
 give yourself ! They're the things for which 
 you never hope to be forgiven ! " 
 
 The girl did not look at him, but her glance 
 chased his down the road to the bend where 
 the dogcart had vanished and would reappear. 
 She, however, was the next to speak, for some- 
 thing had occurred to her that she very much 
 desired to explain. 
 
 " You see, I didn't know you lived here. I 
 had never heard of Mundham when we met 
 in town ; if I had I shouldn't have known it 
 was yours. I never dreamt that I should 
 meet you here. You understand, Lord Man- 
 ister?"
 
 A MATTER OF ANCIEh'T HISTORY. 107 
 
 " My dear Miss Luttrell," cried Manister 
 earnestly, " anybody could see that ! " 
 
 So Christina lost nothing by her little exhi- 
 bition of anxiety to impress this point upon 
 him ; for his reply was a triumphant flourish 
 of the opinion she desired him to hold, to 
 show her that he had it already ; and his 
 anxiety in the matter was even more apparent 
 than her own. 
 
 " Thank you, Lord Manister," said Christina, 
 looking him full in the face. Then her glance 
 dropped to his hand ; and his fingers were 
 entangled in his watch-chain ; and in the 
 knowledge that the greater awkwardness was 
 on his side she raised her eyes confidently, 
 and met the dogged stare of a young Briton 
 about to make a clean breast of his misdeeds. 
 
 " Do you want to know why I didn't men- 
 tion our having taken this place — that time 
 in town ? " 
 
 "That depends on whether you want to 
 tell me." 
 
 " I must tell you. It was because I feared — I 
 mean to say, it crossed my mind — that perhaps 
 you mightn't care to come here if you knew." 
 
 He paused and watched her. She was 
 looking down, with her chin half buried in the
 
 lo8 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 focusing cloth, which had slipped from her 
 head and fallen round her shoulders. The 
 coolness of her face against the black velvet 
 exasperated him, and the more so because he 
 felt himself flushing as he added, " I see I was 
 a fool to fear that." 
 
 " It was certainly unnecessary. Lord Man- 
 ister," said the girl calmly, and not without a 
 note of amusement in her voice, 
 
 " So you don't mind meeting one ! " 
 
 " Lord Manister, I am delighted. Why 
 should I mind?" 
 
 " You know I behaved like a brute." 
 
 "You did, I'm afraid." He winced. "You 
 went away without saying good-by to your 
 friends." 
 
 " I went away without saying good-by to 
 you." 
 
 " Among others." , 
 
 " No ! " he cried sharply. " You and I were 
 more than friends." 
 
 Christina drummed the ground with one 
 foot. Her glance passed over Lord Manister's 
 shoulder. He knew that it waited for the 
 dogcart at the bend of the road. 
 
 " We were more than friends," he repeated 
 desperately.
 
 A MATTER OF ANCIENT HISTORY. 109 
 
 " I don't think we ever were." 
 
 " But yoLi thought so once!" 
 
 The girl's Hp curled, but her eyes still waited 
 in the road. 
 
 " I wonder what you yourself thought once, 
 Lord Manister ? " she said quietly. " What- 
 ever it was, it didn't last long ; but I forgive 
 that freely. Do you know why ? Why, 
 because it Vv^as exactly the same with me." 
 
 " Do you forgive me for getting you talked 
 about?" exclaimed Lord Manister. 
 
 "Yes — because it is the only thing I have 
 to forgive," returned Christina after a 
 moment's hesitation. " The rest was non- 
 sense ; and I wish you wouldn't rake it up in 
 this dreadfully serious way." 
 
 We know what Christina might mean by 
 nonsense. Lord Manister was not the first of 
 her friends whom she had offended by her 
 abuse of the word. " It was not nonsense!" 
 be cried. " It was somethino- either better or 
 worse. I give you my word that I honestly 
 meant it to be something better. But my 
 people sent for me. What could I do ?" 
 
 His voice and eyes were pitiable; but 
 Cliristina showed him no pity. 
 
 " What, indeed ! " she said ironically. " I my-
 
 no TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 self never blamed you forgoing. I was quite 
 sure that you were the passive party, though 
 others said differently. All I have to forgive 
 is what you made other people say ; but the 
 whole affair is a matter of ancient history — 
 and do you think we need talk about it any 
 more, Lord Manister? ' 
 
 " It is not all I have to forgive myself," he 
 answered bitterly, disregarding her ques- 
 tion. "If only you would hate me, I could 
 hate myself less ; but I deserve your con- 
 tempt. Yet, if you knew what has been in 
 my heart all this time, you w^ould pity one. 
 You have haunted me ! I have been good for 
 nothing ever since I came back to England. 
 My people will tell you so, when you get to 
 know them. My mother would tell you in 
 a minute. She has never heard your name 
 . . . but she knows there was someone . . . 
 she knows there is someone still !" 
 
 Christina had colored at last ; but, as she 
 colored, the trot of a horse came gratefully 
 to her attentive ears. 
 
 " You must think no more about it," she 
 whispered ; and her flush deepened. 
 
 "You wipe it all out?" he cried eagerly. 
 
 " Of course I do."
 
 A MATTER OF ANCIENT HISTORY. m 
 
 Her eyes met the dogcart at the bend. 
 Herbert was in it. 
 
 " And we start afresh ? " 
 
 He thought he was to get no answer. She 
 was gazing anxiously at Herbert as the trap 
 approached ; as it drew up on the bridge she 
 murmured, " I think we had better let well 
 alone," without looking at Lord Manister. 
 "Herbert, you remember Lord Manister?" 
 she cried aloud in the same breath. 
 
 Herbert's look was not reassuring. He was, 
 in fact, disgusted with all present but the 
 groom, and most of all with himself, for being 
 where he was. Nor was he the young man to 
 trouble to hide his feelings, and he show^ed 
 them now in so black a look that Christina, 
 who knew him, was filled with apprehension. 
 Thanks to Lord Manister's tact, that look did 
 not last. Manister, who had his own impres- 
 sion of young Luttrell's character, and had 
 not to be shrewd to guess the other's attitude 
 toward himself, brought his most graceful 
 manner to bear on the situation. With Tiny 
 Luttrell, during the bad quarter of an hour 
 which he had deserved and now endured, his 
 best manner had not been at his command ; 
 but it returned to him with the return of the
 
 112 riNY LUTTRELL. 
 
 dogcart, and in time to do him a service. He 
 had hardly shaken hands with Herbert when 
 he asked him as an Austrahan, and therefore 
 a judge, his opinion of the mare. 
 
 The touch would have been too heavy for 
 an olderman ; but Herbert was barely twenty, 
 and it flattered him to the marrow. Christina 
 was relieved to hear his knowing but lauda- 
 tory comments on the mare's points. She 
 knew that, despite her brother's aggressive 
 independence, he was susceptible enough to 
 marked civility. This, indeed, he never 
 expected, and he was ever ready to return, 
 with interest, some fancied slight ; but Chris- 
 tina had never known him rude to anyone 
 going out of his way to be polite to him, as 
 Lord Manister was doing this morning. She 
 divined that politeness from a nobleman was 
 not less gratifying to Herbert because he 
 happened to have maligned the nobleman with 
 much industry. Herbert's modest desire was 
 to be treated as an equal by all men, and he 
 was now being treated as an equal by a lord. 
 This was all he required to make him reason- 
 ably civil, even to Lord Manister. When 
 Manister asked him, almost deferentially, 
 whether the mare could be taken in the pho-
 
 A MATTER OF ANCIENT HISTORY. II3 
 
 tograph, he offered his lordship a place in it 
 too, the offer being decHned, but not without 
 many thanks. 
 
 " I'm going to help take it," Manister 
 laughed. " Mind you don't move, Luttrell. 
 I'm going to help your sister. Hadn't you better 
 come too, and leave my man alone in his glory? " 
 
 Herbert replied that he would take off the 
 cap or do anything they liked. So the three 
 went down into the meadow, and some infa- 
 mous negatives resulted later. At the time 
 care seemed to be taken by the photographers, 
 while Lord Manister stood at a little distance, 
 laughing a good deal. He was pressed to 
 stand in the foreground, but not by Christina, 
 and he steadily refused. The conciliation of 
 his enemy seemed assured without that, though 
 he did think of something else to make it 
 doubly sure. 
 
 " By the way, Luttrell," he said as the 
 camera was being packed away, " you're a 
 cricketer to a certainty — you're an Australian." 
 
 " I'm very fond of it," the Australian replied, 
 " but I haven't played over here ; I've never 
 had the slant." 
 
 " Well, we play a bit ; come over and prac- 
 tice with us."
 
 114 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Herbert thanked him, declaring that he 
 should like nothing better. 
 
 " Lord Manister is a great cricketer," Chris- 
 tina observed. 
 
 " Come over and practice," repeated his 
 lordship cordially. "The ground isn't at all- 
 bad, considering it was only made last winter, 
 and there's a professor to bowl to you. We 
 have some matches coming on presently. Per- 
 haps we might find a place for you." 
 
 This was the one thing Lord Manister said 
 which came within measurable distance of 
 offending the touchy Herbert. A minute 
 later they had parted company. 
 
 " They might find a place for me," Herbert 
 repeated as he and Tiny turned toward the 
 village, while Lord Manister drove off in the 
 opposite direction, with another slightly orna- 
 mental sweep of his hat. " Might they, indeed ! 
 I wouldn't take it. My troubles about their 
 matches ! But I could enjoy a practice." 
 
 " He said he would send over for you next 
 time they do practice." 
 
 Those had been Lord Manister's last words. 
 
 " He did. He is improved. He's a sports- 
 man, after all. It was decent of him to send 
 back the trap for me. But I didn't want to
 
 A MATTER OF ANCIENT HISTORY. 115 
 
 get in — I was jolly scotty with myself for get- 
 ting in. I say, Tiny ! " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 He had her by the arm. 
 
 " I don't ask any questions. I don't want 
 to know a single thing. I hope he went down 
 on his knees for his sins ; I hope you gave 
 him fits ! But look here, Tiny : I won't say 
 a word about this inside if you'd rather I 
 didn't." 
 
 " I'd rather you did," Tiny said at once. 
 " There's nothing to hide. But — you can be 
 a dear, good boy when you like, Herbs !" 
 
 " Can I ? Then you can be offended if you 
 like — but he's on the job now if he never was 
 in his life before ! " 
 
 " I won't say I hope he isn't," Tiny whis- 
 pered. 
 
 So she was not offended.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. 
 
 Such was Christina's first meeting with 
 Lord Manister in his own county. It 
 occurred while his mother's invitation was 
 exhilarating so many homes, and on the day 
 when the Mundham mail bao-nvould not hold 
 the first draught of prompt replies. Until 
 the garden party itself, however, no one at the 
 rectory saw any more of Lord Manister, who 
 had gone for a few days to the Marquis of 
 Wymondham's place in Scotland, where he 
 shot dreadfully on the Twelfth and was other- 
 wise in queer form, considering that Miss 
 Garth was also one of the guests. But under 
 all the circumstances it is not difficult to 
 imagine Manister worried and unhappy dur- 
 ing this interval ; which, on the other hand, 
 remained in the minds of the people at the 
 rectory, Christina included, as the pleasantest 
 part of their month there. 
 
 Not that they suspected this at the time. 
 Mrs. Erskine especially found these days a 
 
 116
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. u? 
 
 little slow. Having knowledge of Lord Man- 
 ister's whereabouts, she was impatient for his 
 return, and the more so because Christina 
 seemed to have forgotten his existence. 
 Christina was indeed puzzling, and on one 
 embarrassing occasion, which with some girls 
 would have led to a scene, she puzzled Ruth 
 more than ever. Ruth tried to follow her 
 presumptive example, and to put aside the 
 thought of Lord Manister for the time being. 
 Her consolation meanwhile was the lively 
 camaradej^ie between Christina and Erskine, 
 wherein Erskine's wife took a delight for 
 which we may forgive her much. 
 
 "How well you two get on!" she would 
 say gladly to each of them. 
 
 " He's a man and a brother," Tiny would 
 reply. 
 
 To which Ruth was sure to say tenderly : 
 " It's sweet of you, dear, to look upon him as 
 a brother. 
 
 " Ah, but don't you forget that he's a man, 
 and not my brother really, but just the very 
 best of pals ! " Tiny said once. " That's the 
 beauty of him. He's the only man who ever 
 talked sense to me right through from the 
 beginning, so he's something new. He's the
 
 Il8 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 only man I ever liked without having the 
 least desire to flirt with him, if you particu- 
 larly want to know ! And I don't believe his 
 being my brother-in-law has anything to do 
 with that," added the girl reflectively ; " it 
 would have been the same in any case. 
 What's better still, he's the only man who 
 ever understood me, my dear." 
 
 " He's very clever, you see," observed Ruth 
 slyly, but also in all seriousness. 
 
 " That's the worst of him ; he makes you 
 feel your ignorance." 
 
 " I assure you, Tiny, he thinks you very 
 clever." 
 
 " So you're crackin' ! " laughed Tiny ; and 
 as the old bush slang filled her mouth unbid- 
 den, the smell of a hot wind at Wallandoon 
 came into her nostrils ; and there seemed no 
 more to be said. 
 
 But that last assurance of Ruth's was still 
 ringing in her ears when her thoughts got 
 back from the bush. She did not believe a 
 word of it. Yet it was more or less true. 
 Nor was Erskine far wrong in any opinion he 
 had expressed to his wife concerning Chris- 
 tina, of whom, perhaps, he had said even less 
 than he thought.
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. 119 
 
 She was not, indeed, to be called an intel- 
 lectual girl, in these days least of all That 
 was her misfortune, or otherwise, as you hap- 
 pen to think. Intellectual possibilities, how- 
 ever, she possessed : raw brain with which 
 much might have been done. Not much can 
 be done by a governess on a station in the 
 back-blocks. Merely in curino- the Qrirls of 
 the twang of Australia, more successfully than 
 of its slang, and in teaching Tiny to sing 
 rather nicely, the governess at Wallandoon 
 had done wonders. But gifts that were of 
 more use to Christina were natural, such as 
 the quick perception, the long memory, and 
 the ready tongue with which she defended 
 the doors of her mind, so that few might 
 guess the poverty of the store within. Nor 
 had the pfoverness been able to add much to 
 that store. The likincr for books had not 
 come to Christina at Wallandoon ; but in 
 Melbourne she had taken to reading, and 
 had reveled in a deal of trash ; and now in 
 England she read whatever Erskine put in 
 her hands, and honestly enjoyed most of 
 it, with the additional rehsh of being proud 
 of her enjoyment. Erskine thought her dis- 
 criminating, too ; but converts to good books
 
 120 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 are apt to flatter the saviors of their taste, 
 and perhaps her brother-in-law was a poor 
 judge of the girl's judgment. He liked her 
 for finding Colonel Newcomes life more 
 touching than his death, and for placing the 
 Colonel second to Di'. Primrose in the order 
 of her crods after readinor " The Vicar of 
 Wakefield." He was delighted with her con- 
 fession that she should "love to be loved by 
 Clive Newcome," while her defense of Miss 
 Ethel, which was vigorous enough to betray a 
 fellow-feeling, was interesting at the time, and 
 more so later, when there was occasion to 
 remember it. Similar interest attached to 
 another confession, that she had long envied 
 CEno7ie and Elaine " because they were really 
 In love." She seemed to have mixed some 
 good poetry with the bad novels that had 
 contented her in Melbourne. Two more 
 books which she learned to love now were 
 "Sesame and Lilies" and " Virorinibus Puer- 
 
 <z> 
 
 isque." It was Erskine Holland's privilege 
 to put each into her hands for the first time, 
 and perhaps she never pleased him quite so 
 much as when she said : " It makes me think 
 less of myself ; it has made me horribly 
 unhappy; but if they were going to hang me
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. 121 
 
 in the morning I would sit up all night tO' 
 read it again!" That was her grace after 
 " Sesame and Lilies." 
 
 "Why don't you make Ruth read too?" 
 she asked him once, quite idly, when they had 
 been talkinof about books. 
 
 " She has a good deal to think about," 
 Erskine replied after a little hesitation. " She's 
 too busy to read." 
 
 ** Or too happy," suggested Tiny. 
 
 Mr. Holland m,ade a longer pause, looking 
 gratefully at the girl, as though she had given 
 him a new idea, which he would gladly enter- 
 tain if he could. " I wonder whether that's 
 possible?" he said at last. 
 
 " I'm sure it is. Ruth is so happy that 
 books can do nothing for her ; the happy ones 
 show her no happiness so great as her own, 
 and she thinks the sad ones stupid. The 
 other day, when I insisted on reading her my 
 favorite thing in ' Virginibus 
 
 "What is your favorite thing?" interrupted 
 Erskine. 
 
 " ' El Dorado ' — it's the most beautiful thing 
 you have put me on to yet, of its size. I could 
 hardly see my way through the last page — I 
 can't tell you why — only because it was so
 
 122 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 beautiful, I think, and so awfully true ! But 
 Ruth saw nothing to cry over ; I'm not sure 
 that she saw much to admire ; and that's all 
 because you have gone and made her so happy." 
 
 For some minutes Erskine looked grim. 
 Then he smiled. 
 
 " But aren't you happy too, Tiny?" 
 
 " I'm as happ)^ as I deserve to be. That's 
 good enough, isn't it ?" 
 
 "Quite. You must be as happy as you're 
 pleased to think Ruth." 
 
 " Well, then, I'm not. I should like to be 
 some good in the world, and I'm no good at 
 all ! " 
 
 " I am sorry to see it take you like that," 
 said Erskine gravely. " I wouldn't have 
 thought this of you. Tiny !" 
 
 "Ah, there are many things you wouldn't 
 think of me," remarked Tiny. She spoke a 
 little sadly, and she said no more. And this 
 time her sudden silence came from no vision 
 of the bush, but from what she loved much 
 less — a glimpse of herself in the mirror of her 
 own heart. 
 
 There was one thing, certainly, that none of 
 them would have thought of her ; for she never 
 told them of her little quiet meddlings in the
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. 123 
 
 village. But I could tell you. Pleasant it 
 would be to write of what she did for Mrs. 
 Clapperton (who certainly seemed to have 
 been unfairly treated) and of the memories 
 that lived after her in more cottages than one. 
 But you are to see her as they did who saw 
 most of her, and to remember that nothing is 
 more delightful than beinor kind to the orrate- 
 ful poor, especially when one is privately 
 depressed. Little was ever known of the lib- 
 erties taken by Christina's generosity, and 
 nothings sliall be recorded here. She must 
 stand or fall without that, as in the eyes of her 
 friends. Suffice it that she did amuse herself 
 in this way on the sly, and found it good for 
 restoring her vanity, which was suffering 
 secretly all this time. She would have been 
 the last to take credit for any good she may 
 have done in Essingham. She knew that it 
 wiped out nothing, and also that it made her 
 happier than she would have been otherwise. 
 For thouoh a worse time came later, even 
 now she was not comfortable in her heart. 
 And she had by no means forgotten the exist- 
 ence of Lord Manister, as someone feared. 
 
 Ruth, however, put her own conversation 
 under studious restraint during these days,
 
 124 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 many of which passed without any mention of 
 Lord Manister's name at the rectory. The 
 distracting proximity of his stately home was 
 apparently forgotten in this peaceful spot. 
 But the wife of one clerical neighbor, a Mrs. 
 Willoughby, who accompanied her husband 
 when he came to play lawn tennis with Mr. 
 Holland, and indeed wherever the poor man 
 went, cherished a grudge against the young 
 nobleman's family, of which she made no 
 secret. It was only natural that this lady 
 should air her grievance on the lawn at 
 Essingham, whence there was a distant pros- 
 pect of lodge and gates to goad her tongue. 
 Yet, when she did so, it was as though the sun 
 had come out suddenly and thrown the shadow 
 of the hall across the rectory garden. 
 
 " As for tliis garden party," cried Mrs. Wil- 
 loughby, as it seemed for the benefit of the 
 gentlemen, who had put on their coats, and 
 were handing teacups under the trees, "I 
 consider it an insult to the county. It comes 
 too late in the day to be regarded as anything 
 else. Why didn't they do something when first 
 they came here ? They have had the place a 
 year. Why didn't they give a ball in the 
 winter, or a set of dinner parties if they pre-
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. 125 
 
 ferredthat? Shall I tell you why, Mr. Hol- 
 land ? It was because the general election 
 was further off then, and it hadn't occurred to 
 them to put up Lord Manister for the division." 
 
 " They haven't been here a year, my dear, 
 by any means," observed Mrs. Willoughby's 
 husband; "and as for dinner parties, we, at 
 any rate, have dined with them." 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't boast about it," answered 
 Mrs. Willoughby, who had a sharp manner in 
 conversation, and a specially staccato note for 
 her husband. " We dined with them, it is true ; 
 I suppose they thought they must do the civil 
 to a neighboring rector or two. But as their 
 footman had the insolence to tell our coach- 
 man, Mrs. Holland, they considered things 
 had reached a pretty pass when it came to 
 dining the country clergy ! ' " 
 
 " Their footman considered," murmured Mr. 
 Willoughby. 
 
 " He was repeating what he had heard at 
 table," the lady affirmed, as though she had 
 heard it herself. " They had made a joke of 
 it — before their servants. So they don't catch 
 me at their garden party, which is to satisfy 
 our social cravings and secure our votes. I 
 don't visit with snobs, Mrs. Holland, for all
 
 126 riNY LUTTRELL. 
 
 their coronets and Norman blood — of which, 
 let me tell you, they haven't one drop between 
 them. Who was the present earl's great- 
 grandfather, I should like to know ? He never 
 had one ; they are not only snobs but upstarts, 
 the Dromards." 
 
 *'At any rate," Mr. Holland said mildly, 
 " they can't gain anything by being civil to us. 
 We don't represent a single vote. We are 
 here for one calendar month." 
 
 " Ah, it is wise to be disinterested here and 
 there," rejoined Mrs. Willoughby, whose sharp- 
 ness was not merely vocal ; " it supplies an 
 instance, and that's worth a hundred argu- 
 ments. Now I shouldn't wonder, Mr. Holland, 
 if they didn't go out of their way to be quite 
 nice to you. I shouldn't wonder a bit. It 
 would advertise their disinterestedness. But 
 wait till you meet them in Piccadilly." 
 
 "Mrs. Willoughby is a cynic," laughed Er- 
 skine, turning to the clergyman, whose wife 
 swallowed her tea complacently with this com- 
 pliment to sweeten it. To so many minds a 
 charge of cynicism would seem to imply that 
 intellectual superiority which is cheap at the 
 price of a moral defect. 
 
 Now Erskine had a lawn tennis player stay-
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. 127 
 
 ing with him for the inside of this week; and 
 the lawn tennis player was a fallen cricketer, 
 who had played against the Eton eleven when 
 young Manisterwas in it; and he ventured to 
 suggest that the division might find a worse 
 candidate, '' He was a nice enough boy then," 
 said he, "and I recollect he made runs; he's a 
 good fellow still, from all accounts." 
 
 " From all mj/ accounts," retorted Mrs. Wil- 
 loughby, refreshed by her tea, " he's a very 
 fast one ! " 
 
 Erskine's friend had never heard that, though 
 he understood that Manister had fallen off in 
 his cricket ; he had not seen the young fellow 
 for years, nor did he think any more about 
 him at the moment, being drawn by Herbert 
 into cricket talk, which stopped his ears to the 
 general conversation just as this became really 
 interesting. 
 
 "That reminds me," Mrs. Willoughby 
 exclaimed, turning to Ruth. " Was Lord 
 Manister out in Australia in your time?" 
 
 Ruth said " No," rather nervously, for Mrs. 
 Willoughby's manner alarmed her. " I was 
 married just before he came out," she added ; 
 " as a matter of fact, our steamers crossed in 
 the canal."
 
 1^8 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Well, you know what a short time he 
 stayed there, for a governor's aid-de-camp?" 
 
 " Only a few months, I have heard. Do let 
 me give you another cup of tea, Mrs. Wil- 
 loughby ! " 
 
 " Now I wonder if you know," pursued this 
 lady, having cursorily declined more tea, "how 
 he came to leave so suddenly ? " 
 
 Poor Mrs. Holland shook her head, which 
 was inwardly besieged with impossible tenders 
 for a change of subject. No one helped her : 
 Tiny had perhaps already lost her presence of 
 mind ; Erskine did not understand ; the other 
 two were not listening-. Ruth could think of 
 no better expedient than a third cup for Chris- 
 tina ; as she passed it her own hand trembled, 
 but venturing to glance at her sister's face, she 
 was amazed to find it not only free from all 
 sign of self-consciousness or of anxiety, but 
 filled with unaffected interest. For this was 
 the occasion on which Christina's coolness quite 
 baffled Ruth, who for her part was preparing 
 for a scene. 
 
 " Shall I tell you ? " asked Mrs. Willoughby. 
 
 " Do," said Christina, to whom the well- 
 informed lady at once turned. 
 
 " He formed an attachment out there. Miss
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. 129 
 
 Luttrell ! He could only get out of it by 
 fleeing the country ; so he fled. You look as 
 though you knew all about it," she added 
 (making Ruth shudder), for the girl had 
 smiled knowingly. 
 
 " About which ? " asked Tiny. 
 
 " What ! Were there more affairs than 
 one ?" 
 
 "■ Some people said so." 
 
 Mrs. Willoughby glanced around her with 
 a glittering eye, and was sorry to notice that 
 two of her hearers were not listening. " That 
 is just what I expected," she informed the 
 other four. " If you tell me that Melbourne 
 became too hot to hold him I shall not be sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " Melbourne made rather a fuss about him," 
 replied Christina in an excusing tone that 
 pierced Ruth's embarrassment and pricked to 
 life her darling hopes. " He was not greatly 
 to blame." 
 
 " But he broke the poor girl's heart. I 
 should blame him for that, to say the least of 
 it." 
 
 " You surprise me," said Christina gravely ; 
 " I thought that people at home never blamed 
 each other for anything they did in the colo-
 
 I30 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 nies ? Over here you are particular, I know ; 
 but I thought it was correct not to be too par- 
 ticular when out there. Your writers come out : 
 we treat them like lords, and then they do 
 _nothing but abuse us ; your lords come out : 
 we treat them like princes, and, you see, they 
 break our hearts. Of course they do ! We 
 expect it of them. It's all we look for in the 
 colonies." 
 
 " You are not serious, Miss Luttrell," said 
 Mrs. WilloLighby in some displeasure. " To 
 my mind it is a serious thing. It seems a sad 
 thing, too, to me. But I may be old-fashioned ; 
 the present generation would crack jokes 
 across an open grave, as I am well aware. 
 Yet there isn't much joke in a young girl hav- 
 ing her heart broken by such as Lord Manister, 
 is there ? And that's what literally happened, 
 for my friend Mrs. Foster-Simpson knows all 
 about it. She knows all about the Dromards 
 — to her cost ! " 
 
 " Ah, we know the Foster-Simpsons ; they 
 called on us last year," remarked Erskine, who 
 devoutly trusted that they would not call 
 again. His amusement at Christina hardly 
 balanced his weariness of Mrs. Willoughby, 
 and he took off his coat as he spoke.
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE HALL. 13 1 
 
 " Does your friend know the poor girl's 
 name, Mrs. Willoughby ?" Tiny asked when 
 the men had gone back to the court ; and her 
 tone was now as sympathetic as could possibly 
 be desired. 
 
 " I'm sorry to say she does not ; it's the one 
 thing she has been unable to find out," said 
 Mrs. WilloLighby naively. " Perhaps you 
 could tell me, Miss Luttrell ? " 
 
 " Perhaps I could," said Christina, smiling, 
 as she rose to seek a ball v/hich had been hit 
 into the churchyard, " Only, you see, I don't 
 know which of them it was. It wouldn't be 
 fair to give you a list of names to guess from, 
 would it ? " 
 
 Fortunately Mrs. Willoughby put no further 
 questions to Ruth, who was intensely thankful. 
 " For," as she told Christina afterward, "/ was 
 on pins and needles the whole time. I never 
 did know anyone like you for keeping cool 
 under fire !" 
 
 " It depends on the fire," Tiny said. " Mrs. 
 Willoughby went off by accident, and luckily 
 she was not pointing at anybody." 
 
 "And I'm glad she did, now it's over!" 
 exclaimed Ruth. " Don't you see that I was 
 quite right about your name ? So now you
 
 132 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 need have no more qualms about the garden 
 party." 
 
 " Perhaps I've had no qualms for some time ; 
 perhaps I've known you were right." 
 
 " Since when ? Since — since you saw Lord 
 Manister ?" 
 
 Tiny nodded. 
 
 " Do you mean to say you talked about it ?" 
 Ruth whispered in delicious awe. 
 
 ** I mustn't tell you what he talked about. 
 He was as nice as he could be — though I 
 should have preferred to find him less beauti- 
 fully dressed in the country ; but I always felt 
 that about him. I am sure, however, of one 
 thinor ; he was no more to blame than — I was. 
 I have always felt this about him, too." 
 
 "Tiny, dear, if only I could understand 
 you ! 
 
 " If only you could ! Then you might help 
 me to understand myself."
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "countess dromard at home." 
 
 • 
 
 The hall gates were plain enough from the 
 rectory lawn, but plainer still from the steps 
 whence, on the afternoon of the garden party, 
 Mr. Holland watched them from under the 
 brim of the first hard hat he had worn for a 
 fortnight. He was ready, while the ladies 
 were traditionally late, but he did not lose 
 patience ; he was too much entertained in 
 watchino- the hall oates and the hedo^erow 
 that hid the road leading up to them. Vehi- 
 cles were filing along this road in a procession 
 which for the moment was continuous. Er- 
 skine could see them over the hedge, and it was 
 difficult to do so without sharing some opin- 
 ions which Mrs. Willoughby had expressed 
 regarding the comprehensive character of the 
 social measure taken not before it was time 
 by the noble family within those gates. There 
 were county clergymen driving themselves in 
 
 »33
 
 134 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 ill-balanced dogcarts, and county townspeople 
 in carriages manifestly hired, and county big- 
 wigs — as big as the Dromards themselves — in 
 splendid equipages, with splendid coachmen 
 and horseflesh the most map:nificent. Greater 
 processional versatility might scarcely be seen 
 in southwestern suburbs on Derby Day; and 
 the low phaeton which he himself was about 
 to contribute to the medley made Erskine 
 laugh. 
 
 " We should follow the next really swagger 
 turnout — we should run behind it," he sug- 
 gested to the girls when at length they 
 appeared ; and Ruth took him seriously. 
 
 " No, get in front of them," said Herbert, 
 who was lounging on the steps, in dirty flan- 
 nels which Erskine envied hini. " Get in front 
 of them and slow down. That'd be the sport- 
 ing thing to do ! They couldn't pass you in 
 the drive. It would do 'em o-ood." 
 
 However, the procession was not without 
 gaps, and to Ruth's satisfaction they found 
 themselves in rather a wide one. As they 
 drove through those august gates a parson's 
 dogcart was rounding a curve some distance 
 ahead, but nothingwas in sight behind. Ruth 
 sat beside her husband, who drove. She
 
 "COUNTESS DROMARD AT HOME." 135 
 
 looked rather demure, but very charming in 
 her little matronly bonnet ; her costume was 
 otherwise somewhat noticeably sober, and cer- 
 tainly she had never felt more sensibly the 
 married sister than now, as she glanced at 
 Christina with furtive anxiety, but open admi- 
 ration. Tiny was neatly dressed in white, and 
 her hat was white also. " Do you know why 
 I wear a white hat?" she asked Erskine on 
 the way ; but her question proved merely to 
 be an impudent adaptation of a very disrepu- 
 table old riddle, and beyond this she was unu- 
 sually silent during the short drive. Yet she 
 seemed not only self-possessed, but inv/ardly 
 at her ease. She sat on the little seat in front, 
 often turning round to gaze ahead, and her 
 curiosity and interest were very frank and nat- 
 ural. So were her admiration of the park, her 
 anxiety to see the house itself, and even her 
 wonder at the great length of the drive, which 
 ran alongside the cricket field, and then bent 
 steadily to the left. When at last the low red- 
 brick pile became visible, Gallow Hill was seen 
 immediately behind it, which surprised Chris- 
 tina ; the lawn in front was alive with people, 
 which put her on her mettle ; and the inspirit- 
 ing outburst of a military band at that moment
 
 136 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 forced from her an admission of the pleasure 
 and excitement which had been growing upon 
 her for some minutes. 
 
 " I Hke this ! " she exclaimed. " This is 
 first-rate England ! " 
 
 Countess Dromard stood on the edge of the 
 lawn at the front of the house, and apparently 
 the carriages were unloading at this side of 
 the drive. Ruth whispered hurried!}- that she 
 was sure they were, but she was not so sure 
 in reality, and she now saw the disadvantage 
 of arriving in a wide gap, which deprives the 
 inexperienced of their lawful cue. She was 
 quite right, however, and when some minutes 
 elapsed before the arrival of another carriage 
 to interrupt the charming little conversation 
 Ruth had with Lady Dromard, the good of 
 the gap became triumphantly apparent. The 
 countess was very kind indeed. She was a 
 tall, fine woman, with whom the shadows of 
 life had scarce beo-un to leno-then to the eve ; 
 her face was not only handsome, but wonder- 
 fully fresh, and she had a trick of lowering it 
 as she chatted with Ruth, bending over her in 
 a way which was comfortable and almost moth- 
 erly from the first. She had heard of Mrs. 
 Holland, whom she was glad to meet at last,
 
 "COUNTESS DROMARD AT HOME." 137 
 
 and of whom she now hoped to see something" 
 more. Ruth observed that they had the rec- 
 tory only till September ; she was sorry her 
 time was so short. Lady Dromard very flat- 
 teringly echoed her sorrow, and also professed 
 an envious admiration for the rectory, which 
 she described as idyllic. That was practically 
 all. What was said of the weather hardly 
 counted ; and a repetition of her ladyship's 
 hopes of seeing something more of Mrs. Hol- 
 land and her party was not worth remember- 
 ing, according to Erskine, who declared that 
 this meant nothing at all. 
 
 Ruth, however, was not likely to forget it; 
 though she treasured just as much the memory 
 of a certain glance which she had caught the 
 countess leveling at her sister. She thought 
 that other eyes also were attracted by the 
 white-robed Tiny, and the smooth-shaven turf 
 was air to Ruth's tread as she marched off 
 with her husband and that cynosure. Nor 
 was her satisfaction decreased when the first 
 person they came across chanced to be no 
 other than Mrs. Willoughby. This meeting 
 was literally the unexpected treat that Ruth 
 pronounced it to be, for the clergyman's wife 
 was smiling in a manner which showed that
 
 138 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 she had witnessed the countess' singular 
 civility to her friend. 
 
 "Yes, I'm here after all," said Mrs. Wil- 
 loughby grimly. " Henry made me very angry 
 by insisting on coming, but of course I wasn't 
 going to let him come alone. I hope you 
 think he looks happy now he's here!" (Mr. 
 Willoughby and a brother rector might have 
 been hatching dark designs against their 
 bishop, who was himself present, judging by 
 their looks.) "/call him the picture of miser}'. 
 Well, Mrs. Holland, I hope you are gratified 
 at your reception ! Oh, it was quite gushing, 
 I assure you ; we have all been watching. 
 But wait, till you meet them in Piccadilly, my 
 dear Mrs. Holland." 
 
 Mrs. Holland left the reply to her husband, 
 who, however, contented himself with promis- 
 ing Mrs. Willoughby a telegraphic report of 
 the proceedings at that meeting, if it ever took 
 place. 
 
 " Ah, there won't be much to report," said 
 that redoubtable woman; " they won't look at 
 you. But I shouldn't be surprised to see them 
 make a deal of you in the country, If you let 
 them." 
 
 It did not seem conducive to the enjoyment
 
 "COUNTESS DROMARD AT HOME." 139 
 
 of the afternoon to prolong the conversation 
 with Mrs. Willoughby. The party of three 
 wandered toward the band, admiring- the 
 scarlet coats of the bandsmen against the 
 dark green of the shrubbery, and their bright 
 brass instruments flaming in the sun. The 
 music also was of much spirit and gayety, 
 and it was agreed that a band was an immense 
 improvement to a rite of this sort. Then 
 these three, who, after all, knew very few 
 people present, followed the example of 
 others, and made a circuit of the house, in 
 high good humor. But Tiny found herself 
 between two conversational fires, for Ruth 
 would compel her to express admiration for 
 the premises, which might have been taken 
 for granted, while Erskine called her attention 
 to the people, who were much more entertain- 
 ing to watch. As they passed a table devoted 
 to refreshments, at which a large lady was 
 being waited upon very politely by a small boy 
 in a broad collar, they overheard one of those 
 scraps of conversation which amuse at the 
 moment. 
 
 "So you're a Dromard boy, are you?" the 
 lady was saying. " I've never seen you before. 
 What Dromard boy •d.xo.yoti, pray?"
 
 14° TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " My name's Douglas." 
 
 "Oh! So you're tlie Honorable Douglas 
 Dromard, are you ? " 
 
 The boy handed her an ice without answer- 
 ing as the three passed on. 
 
 " I said you'd see and hear some queer 
 things," whispered Mr. Holland; ^'but )ou 
 won't hear anything much finer than that. 
 The woman is Mrs. Foster-Simpson ; her 
 husband's a solicitor, and may be the Con- 
 servative agent, if his wife doesn't disqualify 
 him. She professes to know all about the 
 Dromards, as you heard the other day. You 
 can guess the kind of knowledge. Even the 
 boy snubs her. Yet mark him. The mixture 
 of politeness and contempt was worth noticing 
 in a small boy like that. There's a little 
 nobleman for you ! " 
 
 " No, a little Englishman," said Tiny. 
 " Now that's a thing I do envy you— your 
 schoolboys, your little gentlemen ! We don't 
 grow them so little in the colonies ; we don't 
 know how." 
 
 They were walking on a majestic terrace in 
 the shadow of the red-brick house, their figures 
 mirrored in each mullioned window as they 
 passed it.
 
 •'COUNTESS DROMARD AT HOMEr 141 
 
 " I call Lord Manister the luckiest young 
 man In England," Ruth exclaimed during a 
 pause between the other two. " To think that 
 all this will be his ! " 
 
 "It rather reminds me of Hampton Court 
 on this side," remarked Tiny indifferently. 
 
 " And it's by no means their only place, you 
 know ; there are others they never use, are 
 there not, Erskine ? — to say nothing of all 
 those squares and streets in town ! " 
 
 But Erskine sounded the thick sibilant of 
 silence as they passed a shabby looking person 
 with a slouching walk and a fair beard. 
 
 " I wonder how he got here ? " Tiny mur- 
 mured next moment. 
 
 " He has a better rioht than most of us." 
 
 " What do you mean, Erskine ? " 
 
 '' Well, it's the earl." 
 
 " Earl Dromard ? I should have guessed 
 his gardener !" 
 
 " No, that's the earl. Old clothes are his 
 special fancy in the country. It's his particu- 
 lar form of side, so they say." 
 
 " Well," said Tiny, " I prefer it to his son's, 
 which has always appeared to me to be the 
 other extreme." 
 
 '* I am sure Lord Manister is not over-
 
 142 • TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 dressed," remonstrated Ruth, with her usual 
 alacrity in defense of his lordship. 
 
 " No, that's the worst of him," answered 
 her sister. "There is nothing to find fault 
 with, ever ; that's what makes one think he 
 employs his intellect on the study of his 
 appearance." 
 
 They had seen Lord Manister in the dis- 
 tance. Presumably he had not seen them, but 
 he might have done so ; and Ruth supposed 
 it was the doubt that made her sister speak of 
 him more captiously than usual. But the crit- 
 icism was not utterly unfair, as Ruth might 
 presently have seen for herself ; for as they 
 came back to the front of the house, Lord 
 Manister detached himself from a group, and 
 approached them with the suave smile and the 
 slight flourish of the hat which were two of his 
 tricks. Christina asked afterward if the flour- 
 ish was not dreadfully continental, but she was 
 told that it was merely up to date, like the hat 
 itself. At the time, however, she introduced 
 Lord Manister to her sister Mrs. Erskine Hol- 
 land, and to Mr. Holland, taking this liberty 
 with charming grace and tact, yet wMth a 
 becoming amount of natural shyness. Manis- 
 ter, for one, was pleased with the introduction
 
 '* COUNTESS DROMARD AT HOME." 143 
 
 on all grounds. From the first, however, he 
 addressed himself to the married lady, speak- 
 ing partly of the surrounding country, for which 
 Ruth could not say too much, and partly of 
 Melbourne, which enabled him to return her 
 compliments. His manner was eminently 
 friendly and polite. Discovering that they had 
 not yet been in the house for tea, he led the 
 way thither, and through a throng of people in 
 the hall, and so into the dining room. Here he 
 saved the situation from embarrassment by 
 making himself equally attentive to another 
 party. To Ruth, however. Lord Manister's 
 civility was still sufficiently marked, while he 
 asked her husband whether he was a cricketer ; 
 and this reminded him of Herbert, for whom 
 he gave Miss Luttrell a message. He said 
 they had just arranged some cricket for the 
 last week of the month ; he thought they would 
 be glad of Miss Luttrell's brother in one or two 
 of the matches. But he seemed to fear that 
 most of the teams were made up ; his young 
 brother was arranging everything. Christina 
 gathered that in any case they would be glad 
 to see Herbert at the nets any afternoon of the 
 following week, more especially on the Mon- 
 day. Lord Manister made a point of the mes-
 
 144 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 sage, and also of the cricket week, "when," 
 he said, "you must all turn up if it's fine." 
 And those were his last words to them. 
 
 " I see you know my son," said the countess 
 in her kindliest manner as Ruth thanked her 
 for a charming afternoon. 
 
 " My sister met him the other day at Lady 
 Almeric's," replied Ruth, " and before that in 
 Australia." 
 
 " I knew Lord Manister in Melbourne," 
 added Tiny with freedom. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me you are Austra- 
 lians?" said Lady Dromard in a tone that 
 complimented the girls at the expense of their 
 country. "Then you must certainly come 
 and see me," she added cordially, though her 
 surprise was still upon her. " I am greatly 
 interested in Australia since my son was there. 
 I feel I have a welcome for all Australians — 
 you welcomed him, you know ! " 
 
 Christina afterward expressed the firm opin- 
 ion that Lady Dromard had said this rather 
 strangely, which Ruth as firmly denied. Tiny 
 was accused of an imaginative self-conscious- 
 ness, and the accusation provoked a blush, 
 which Ruth took care to remember. Cer- 
 tainly, if the countess had spoken quecrly, the.
 
 "COUNTESS DROMARD AT HOME." 145 
 
 queerness had escaped the one person who was 
 not on the lookout for something of the kind ; 
 Erskine Holland had perceived nothing but 
 her ladyship's condescension, which had been 
 indeed remarkable, though Erskine still told 
 his wife to expect no further notice from that 
 quarter. 
 
 " And I'm selfish enough to hope you'll get 
 none, my dears," he said to the girls that 
 evening as they sauntered through the 
 kitchen garden after dinner ; " because for 
 my part I'd much rather not be noticed by 
 them. We were not intended to take seri- 
 ously anything that was said this afternoon ; 
 honey was the order of the day for all comers 
 — and can't you imagine them wiping their 
 foreheads when we were all gone ? I only 
 hope they wiped us out of their heads ! We're 
 much happier as we are. I'm not rabid, like 
 Mrs. Willoughby ; but she prophesied a very 
 possible experience, when all's said and done, 
 confound her ! I have visions of Piccadilly 
 myself. And seriously, Ruth, you wouldn't 
 like it if you became friendly with these peo- 
 ple here and they cut you in town ; no more 
 should I. I think you can't be too careful 
 with people of that sort ; and if they ask us
 
 146 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 again I vote we don't go ; but they won't ask 
 us any more, you may depend upon it." 
 
 " I don't depend upon it, all the same," 
 replied Ruth, with some spirit. " Lady 
 Dromard was most kind ; and as for Lord 
 Manister, /was enchanted with him." 
 
 " Were you ? " Tiny said, feeling vaguely 
 that she was challenged. 
 
 " I was ; I thought him unaffected and 
 friendly, and even simple. I am sure he is 
 simple-minded! I am also sure that you won't 
 find another young man in his position who is 
 better natured or better hearted " 
 
 " Or better mannered — or better dressed ! 
 You are quite right ; he is nearly perfect. He 
 is rather too perfect for me in his manners and 
 appearance ; I should like to untidy him ; I 
 should like to put him in a temper. Lord 
 Manister was never in a temper in his life ; 
 he's nicer than most people — but he's too nice 
 altogether for me ! " 
 
 "You knew him rather well in Melbourne?" 
 said Erskine, eyeing his sister-in-law curi- 
 ously ; her face was toward the moon, and 
 her expression was set and scornful. 
 
 " Very well indeed," she answered with her 
 erratic candor.
 
 '* COUNTESS DROMARD AT HOME." 147 
 
 ** I might have guessed as much that time 
 in town. I say, if we meet him in Piccadilly 
 we may score off Mrs. Willoughby yet ! Wait 
 till we get back " 
 
 " All right ; only don't let us wait out here," 
 Ruth interrupted — "or Tiny and I may have 
 to gfo back in our coffins ! "
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 
 
 A CLEVER man is not necessarily an infallible 
 prophet ; and the clever man who is married 
 may well preserve an intellectual luster in the 
 eyes of his admirer by never prophesying at 
 all. But should he take pleasure in predict- 
 ing the thing that is openly deprecated at the 
 other side of the hearth, let him see to it that 
 his prediction comes true, for otherwise he has 
 whetted a blade for his own breast, from 
 whose justifiable use only an angel could ab- 
 stain. There was no angel in the family 
 which- had been brought up on Wallandoon 
 Station, New South Wales. When, within 
 the next three days, Ruth received a note from 
 Lady Dromard inviting them all to dinner at 
 a very early date, she did not fail to prod Er- 
 skine as he deserved. But her thrust was not 
 malignant ; nor did she give vexatious vent to 
 her own triumph, which was considerable. 
 
 "You are a very clever man," she merely 
 
 148
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 149 
 
 told him, and with the relish of a wife who 
 can say this from her heart ; " but you see, 
 you're wrong for once. Lady Dromard did 
 mean what she said. She wants us all to dine 
 there on Friday evening, when, as it happens, 
 we have no other engagement ; and really 
 I don't see how we can refuse." 
 
 "You mean that you would like to get out 
 of it if you could?" her husband said. 
 
 "You don't need to be sarcastic," remarked 
 Ruth with a slight flush. " Who wants to 
 get out of it ?" 
 
 " I thought perhaps you did, my dear ; to 
 tell you the truth, I rather hoped so." 
 
 "You don't want to go ! " 
 
 " I can't say I jump." 
 
 Ruth colored afresh. 
 
 " I have no patience with you, Erskine ! 
 Nobody is dying to go ; but I own I can't see 
 any reason against going, nor any excuse for 
 stopping away ; and considering what you 
 yourself said about going to the garden party, 
 dear, I must say I think you're rather incon- 
 sistent." 
 
 Holland crazed down into the flushed, frown- 
 ing face, that frowned so seldom, and flushed 
 so prettily. Always an undemonstrative hus-
 
 ISO TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 band, very properly he had been more so than 
 ever since others had been staying in the 
 house. But neither of those others was pres- 
 ent now, and rather suddenly he stooped and 
 kissed his wife. 
 
 " There is no reason, and there would be 
 no excuse ; so you are quite right," he said 
 kindly. " It's only that one has a constitu- 
 tional dislike to being taken up — and dropped. 
 I have visions of all that. I'm afraid Mrs. 
 Willoughby has poisoned my mind ; we will 
 go, and let us hope it'll prove an antidote." 
 
 They went, and that dinner party was not 
 the formidable affair it might have been ; as 
 Lady Dromard herself said, most graciously, 
 it was not a dinner party at all. Ten, how- 
 ever, sat down, of whom four came from the 
 rectory ; for Herbert had been over to practice 
 at the nets, and was fairly satisfied with his 
 treatment on that occasion, which accounted 
 for his presence on this. The only other 
 guests were an inevitable divine and his wife. 
 The earl was absent. As if to conserve 
 Christina's impression of the old clothes in 
 which, as the natives said, his lordship "liked 
 himself," Earl Dromard had left for London 
 rather suddenly that morning. Lord Manister
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 15 1 
 
 filled his place impeccably, with Ruth at her 
 best on his right. Herbert was less- happy 
 with Lady Mary Dromard, a very proud per- 
 son, who could also be very rude in the most 
 elegant manner. But Christina fell to the 
 jolliest scion of the house, Mr. Stanley 
 Dromard ; and this pair mutually enjoyed 
 themselves. 
 
 Young in every way was the Honorable Stan- 
 ley Dromard. He had just left Eton, where he 
 had been in the eleven, like his brother before 
 him ; he was to go into residence at Trinity in 
 October. With a quantum of gentlemanly in- 
 terest he heard that Miss Luttrell's brother 
 was also going up to Cambridge next term ; 
 but not to Trinity. Said Mr. Dromard, " Your 
 brother's a bit of a cricketer, too ; he came 
 over for a knock the other day ; he means to 
 play for us next week, if we're short, doesn't 
 he?" Christina fancied so. Mr. Dromard said 
 " Good ! " with some emphasis, and Herbert's 
 name dropped out of the conversation. This 
 became Anglo-Australian, as it was sure to, 
 and led to some of those bold comparisons for 
 which Christina was generally to be trusted ; 
 but the bolder they were, the more Mr. 
 Dromard enjoyed them, for the girl glittered
 
 152 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 in his eyes. He was a delightfully appre- 
 ciative youth, if easily amused, and his lauoh- 
 ter sharpened Tiny's wits. She shone con- 
 sciously, but yet calmly, and made a really 
 remarkable impression upon her companion, 
 without once meeting Lord Manister's glance, 
 which rested on her sometimes for a second. 
 
 So the flattering attentions of young Drom- 
 ard were not terminated, but merely inter- 
 rupted, by the flight of the ladies. When the 
 men followed them to the drawing room the 
 younger son shot to Miss Luttrell's side with 
 the fine regardlessness of nineteen, and fur- 
 thered their friendship by divulging the 
 Mundham plans for the following week. The 
 cricket was to begin on the Tuesday. The 
 men were coming the day before : half the 
 Eton eleven, Tiny understood, and some 
 older young fellows of Manister's standing. 
 The first two were to be two-day matches 
 against the county and a Marylebone team. 
 The Saturday's match would be between 
 Mundham Hall and another scratch eleven, 
 " and that's when we may want your brother, 
 Miss Luttrell," added Mr. Dromard, " tliough 
 we might want him before. Our team lias 
 been made up some time, but somebody is
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 1S3 
 
 sure to have some other fixture for Satur- 
 day." 
 
 " I think he may like to play," said Chris- 
 tina. 
 
 Mr. Dromard seemed a little surprised. 
 
 "It's a jolly ground," he remarked, "and 
 there will be some first-rate players." 
 
 " I am sure he would like a game on your 
 ground," Christina went so far as to say. 
 
 " Do you dance, Miss Luttrell?" asked the 
 young man, after a pause. 
 
 ''When I get the chance," said Christina. 
 
 He gazed at her a moment, and could 
 imagine her dancing — with him. 
 
 " Suppose we were to do something of the 
 kind here one evening between the matches ; 
 would you come ? " 
 
 " If I got the chance," said Christina. 
 
 Dromard considered what he was saying. 
 "We ought to have a dance," he added in a 
 doubtful tone, as though the need were greater 
 than the chance; "we really ought. But I 
 don't suppose we shall ; nothing is arranged, 
 you see.'* 
 
 " You needn't hedge, Mr. Dromard," said 
 the girl, smiling. 
 
 "Eh?"
 
 1 54 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " I shan't expect an Invitation !" 
 
 She nodded knowingly as he blushed ; but 
 he had the great merit of being easily amused, 
 and with another word she made him merry 
 and at ease again. Not unreasonably, per- 
 haps, a casual spectator might have suspected 
 these two of a mild but immediate flirtation. 
 Stanley, however, was at a safe and privileged 
 age, and no eye was on him but his brother's. 
 Lord Manister gave the impression of being a 
 rather dignified person in his ovvm home, but 
 he was doing his gracious duty by the guests, 
 none of whom seemed especially to occupy his 
 attention, while he was reasonably polite to 
 all. It was he, too, who at length suggested 
 to Lady Dromard that Miss Lut^/ell would 
 probably sing something if she were asked. 
 
 So Christina sang something — it hardly 
 matters what. Her song was not a classic, 
 neither was it grossly popular. It was a pleas- 
 ant song, pleasantly sung, and the entire 
 absence of pretentiousness and of affectation 
 in the song and the singing was more notice- 
 able than the positive excellence of either. 
 The girl had no greater voice than one would 
 have expected of so small a person, but what 
 she had was in keeping. Lady Dromard,
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 155 
 
 however, had a more sensitive appreciation of 
 good taste than of good music, and she asked 
 for more. Christina sang successively some- 
 thing of Lassen's, and then " Last Night," 
 taking the EngHsh vi^ords in each case. She 
 played her own accompaniments, and felt little 
 nervousness until her last song was finished, 
 when it certainly startled her to find Lady 
 Dromard standing at her side. 
 
 " Thank you ! " said the countess with 
 considerable enthusiasm. "You sine delieht- 
 fully, and you sing delightful songs. You 
 must have been very well taught." 
 
 " Mostly in the bush," said Christina truth- 
 fully. 
 
 " You come from the bush ? " 
 
 " But you had some lessons in Melbourne," 
 put in Ruth, who was visibly delighted. 
 
 "Oh, yes, a few," Tiny said, smiling; "as 
 many as I was worth." 
 
 "Ah, you shall tell me about Melbourne 
 one day soon," said Lady Dromard to the 
 young girl. "Your sister has promised to 
 come over and watch tlie cricket. I do hope 
 you will come with her." 
 
 Christina expressed her pleasure at the 
 prospect, and, taking the nearest seat, found
 
 156 TINY LUTTRELL. , 
 
 Lord Manister leanlno- over the end of the 
 piano and looking down upon her with a 
 rather sardonic smile. 
 
 "You haven't looked at me this evening," 
 he said to her under cover of the general con- 
 versation, which was now renewed. " May I 
 ask what I have done ? " 
 
 " Certainly you may ask, Lord Manister," 
 answered the girl with immense simplicity ; 
 " but I can't tell you, because I am not aware 
 that you have done anything beyond making 
 us all very happy and at home." 
 
 "Well, I'm glad to hear that," said Manis- 
 ter, w^hose quasi-humorous tone lacked the 
 lightness to deceive ; " I was afraid I had 
 offended you." 
 
 " Offended me ! " cried Christina, with widen- 
 ing eyes and a puzzled look. " When have 
 you seen me to offend me ! I haven't seen 
 you since your garden party, and you certainly 
 didn't offend me then — you were awfully nice 
 to us all ! " 
 
 "Ah, that wasn't seeing you," Lord Manis- 
 ter murmured. " I don't reckon that I've seen 
 you since — the photographs. I had to go to 
 Scotland ; I meant to tell you." 
 
 " It wouldn't have interested me," said
 
 MOTHER AND SON. i57 
 
 Christina, with a shrug. " It might have 
 interested me if you had said — you were 7iot 
 going," she added next moment. Her tone 
 had dropped. She looked at him and 
 smiled. 
 
 Her smile stayed with him after she was 
 gone ; but from his face you would not have 
 guessed that he was nursing a kind look. She 
 had given him one smile, which made up for 
 many things. But you would have thought, 
 with his people, that he had been suffering 
 the whole evening from acute boredom : you 
 might well have fancied, with Lady Mary, that 
 a remark disparaging Australian women would 
 have met with a grateful response from him. 
 The response it did meet with w^as anything 
 but grateful to Lady Mary Dromard. It 
 drove her from the room, in which Manister 
 and his mother w^ere presently left alone. 
 
 " I think you w^ere just," the countess said 
 critically. *' They are pleasant people, and 
 quite all right. The young man is their weak 
 point." 
 
 "They always are," her son remarked, 
 rather savagely still. "They're larrikins!" 
 
 " The young girl was especially nice, and 
 sang like a lady."
 
 158 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Ah, you approve of her," said Lord 
 Manister dryly. 
 
 " Entirely, I think. Evidently you don't. 
 I only saw you speak to her once, toward the 
 end. Yet she has met you in Australia ; I 
 should have recognized that, I think. Now 
 her people," Lady Dromard added tentatively, 
 " will be rather superior, I suppose, as colo- 
 nials go ?" 
 
 " Well, they're rich ; I suppose that's how 
 colonials go." 
 
 For one moment Lady Dromard fancied 
 that the sneer was for the colonials, and it 
 surprised her ; the next, she took it to herself, 
 and very meekly for so proud a heart. 
 
 " My dear boy ! " she murmured indul- 
 gently. "Apart from their people, these girls 
 — for the married one is as young as she has 
 any right to be — strike one as fresh, and 
 free, and pleasing. And they are ladies. Am 
 I to believe that the majority out there are 
 like them ?" 
 
 Manister shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " That's as you please, my dear mother. 
 These people didn't strike me as the only 
 decent ones in Melbourne. I did meet 
 others."
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 1 59 
 
 The countess tapped her foot upon the 
 fender, and took counsel with her own reflec- 
 tion in the mirror, for she was standing before 
 the fireplace while her son wandered about 
 the room — her son with the reputation for a 
 childlike devotion to his mother. There had 
 been little of that sort of devotion since his 
 return from Australia. Nothing between 
 them v/as as it had been before. This bitter 
 coldness had been his domestic manner — his 
 manner with her, of all people — longer than 
 the mother could bear. She knew the rea- 
 son ; she had tried to tell him so ; she had 
 tried to speak freely to him of the whole mat- 
 ter — even penitently, if he would. But he 
 had never spoken freely to her ; and once he 
 had refused to speak at all, thence or thence- 
 forth. Lady Dromard had made a resolve 
 then which she remembered now. 
 
 "Really, Harry, I can't make you out," 
 she said lightly at length. "You knock down 
 the colonials with one hand, and you set them 
 up with the other, as though they were so 
 many ninepins. I am puzzled to know what 
 you really mean, and what you mean satir- 
 ically. You never used to be satirical, Harry ! 
 I should like to know whether you really
 
 l6o IVNY LUTTRELL. 
 
 approve of these people, or whether you 
 
 d>, )> 
 on t. 
 
 " I do approve of them," said Lord Manis- 
 ter, halting on the rug before his mother. " I 
 won't put it more strongly. But I am glad 
 that you should have seen there are such 
 things as ladies in Australia!" 
 
 Their eyes met, and the mother forgot her 
 resolve ; for he had raised the subject himself, 
 and for the first time, 
 
 "You think of her still!" whispered Lady 
 Dromard. 
 
 " Of course I do," returned Manister, 
 roughly ; and again he was striding about the 
 room. 
 
 Never in her life, perhaps, had the countess 
 received a sharper hurt ; for he had refused to 
 see the hand she had reached out to him 
 involuntarily. Yet assuredly Lady Dromard 
 had never spoken in a more ordinary tone 
 than that of her next words, a minute later. 
 
 " It occurred to me, Harry, that if we really 
 think of dancing one evening during the 
 cricket week, we might do worse than ask 
 these people from the rectory. You must 
 have girls to dance with. Still, if you think 
 better not, you have only to say so."
 
 MOTHER AND SON. i6l 
 
 ** I think it's for you to decide ; but, if you 
 ask me, I don't see the least objection to it," 
 said Lord Manister, with a smooth ceremony 
 that had a sharper edge than his rough words. 
 " I'm not sure, hov/ever, that they will come 
 every time you ask them." 
 
 "Pourquoi?" 
 
 " Because they're the most independent 
 people in the world, the Australians." 
 
 "It would scarcely touch their independ- 
 ence," said Lady Dromard with careless con- 
 tempt ; "but we can really do without them, 
 and I am glad of your hint, because now I 
 shall not think of asking them." 
 
 " Now, my dear mother," cried Lord Manis- 
 ter, no longer either hot or cold, but his old 
 self for once in his anxiety — " you misunder- 
 stand me entirely ! I'm not great on a dance 
 at all, but if we're to have one we must, as 
 you say, have somebody to dance wich ; and I 
 want you to ask these people."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A THREATENING DAWN. 
 
 " I LIKE a dance where you can dance," said 
 Herbert, who was looking at himself in a 
 glass and wondering how long his white tie 
 had been on one side. " It was worth fifty of 
 the swell show you took us to in town, Ruth." 
 
 " I am glad you two have enjoyed it so," 
 returned Ruth, with her eye, however, upon 
 her husband. " Of course there's a great dif- 
 ference between a big dance in town and a 
 little one in the country." 
 
 Tiny seemed busy. She was tearing her 
 programme into small pieces, and dropping 
 them at her feet, so that when she had gone 
 up to bed it was as though a paper chase had 
 passed through the rectory study, where they 
 had all gathered for a few moments on their 
 return from the dance. Christina, however, 
 was not too preoccupied to chime in on her 
 own note : 
 
 ite
 
 A THREATENING DAIVN. 1 63 
 
 " It's like the difference between RIverina 
 and Victoria — there were acres to the sheep 
 instead of sheep to the acre." 
 
 Now there was no merit in this speech, but 
 to those who understood it the comparison 
 was apt, and Erskine knew enough of Aus- 
 traha to understand. Moreover, he had taught 
 Tiny to Hsten for his laugh. So when he 
 made neither sound nor sign the girl felt 
 injured, but remembered that he had been 
 extremely silent on the way home. And he 
 was the first to go upstairs. 
 
 " It has bored him," observed Christina. 
 
 " He don't like dancing," said Herbert. 
 " He's no sportsman." 
 
 " I am afraid he cares for nothing but lawn 
 tennis when he's here," sighed Ruth, who 
 looked a little troubled. " I am afraid he dis- 
 likes going out in the countr\'." 
 
 They were silent for some minutes before 
 Tiny exclaimed with conviction : 
 
 '* No ; it's the Dromards he dislikes." 
 
 And presently they made a move from the 
 room. But on the stairs they met Erskine 
 comincr down, havinof chan<jed his dress suit 
 for flannels ; and Ruth followed him back to 
 the study, eying the change with dismay.
 
 1 64 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Surely you're not going to sit up at this 
 hour?" 
 
 Ruth had raised her glance from his flannels 
 to his face, which troubled her more. 
 
 " I'm afraid the fine weather's at an end," 
 Erskine answered crookedly ; " it's most 
 awfully close, at any rate. And I want a 
 pipe." 
 
 He proceeded to fill one with his back to 
 her. 
 
 "Erskine!" 
 
 "Well, dear?" 
 
 "I won't be 'dear' to you when you're 
 cross with me. I want to know what I have 
 done to vex you." 
 
 He had struck a match, and he lit his pipe 
 before answering. Then he said gently 
 enough : 
 
 " If 3'ou think I'm cross with you I should 
 run away to bed ; I certainly don't mean to 
 be." 
 
 But he had not turned round. 
 
 " You succeed, at any rate ! As you seem 
 to wish it, I shall take your advice." 
 
 Erskine heard her on the stairs with a 
 twinoe in his heart. He went to the door to 
 call her down and be frank with her, but the
 
 A THREATENING DAWN. 165 
 
 shutting of her own door checked him. Set- 
 ting this one ajar, he threw up the window, 
 and stood frowning at the opaque pall that 
 seemed to have been let down behind it like 
 an outer blind. So he remained for some 
 minutes before remembering the easy-chair. 
 No one knew better than Erskine that he had 
 just been unkind to his wife. He was not 
 pleased with her, but he had refused to explain 
 his displeasure when she invited him to do so. 
 There was this difficulty in explaining it — 
 that he knew it to be unreasonable, since the 
 person who had vexed him most was not Ruth, 
 but Christina. And not more reasonable was 
 his disappointment in Christina, as he also 
 knew. Yet the one thing in life not disap- 
 pointing to him at the moment was his pipe ; 
 even the fine weather was most surely at an 
 end. 
 
 He was tired of the rectory, which, wet or 
 fair, had no longer either light or shadow of 
 its own, for both were now absorbed in the 
 deepening shadow of the hall. A week ago 
 they had all dined there, now they had been 
 dancing there, and meanwhile the girls had 
 watched one of the matches, and were going 
 to another. Erskine had been opposed to
 
 1 66 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 the dance, but the wife had prevailed ; he 
 was against their going to another match, but 
 doubtless Ruth would have her way again, for 
 she had shown a tenacity of purpose that sur- 
 prised him in her, while he was crippled by a 
 conscious lack of logic in his objections. He 
 was not an arbitrary person, and it seemed 
 that Ruth would stop for nothing less than a 
 command where her heart was set ; and her 
 sister was with her. The whole trouble was, 
 where their hearts were set. 
 
 He tried hard not to think the worst of 
 Tiny, or rather the worst as it seemed to him. 
 To make it easier, he called to mind various 
 things she had said to him at various times 
 concerning Lord Manister, of whom she had 
 seldom failed to make fun. It amused and 
 consoled Erskine to remember the fun ; there 
 must be hope for her still. Then he recalled 
 common gossip about Lord Manister and his 
 affairs ; and there was hope on that side too. 
 In less than a week the danger would be past, 
 and those two would never see each other 
 again. Consideration of the danger he had 
 in mind, qiid danger, provoked a smile. Tiny 
 herself would have enjoyed the humor of that, 
 she was so quick to see and to enjoy. But
 
 A THREATENING DAWN. 1 67 
 
 she could appreciate more than a joke, or did 
 she only pretend to like those books ? And 
 the soul that shone sometimes in her eyes, did 
 it lie much deeper ? She interested Erskine 
 the more because he could not be sure. She 
 was a fascinating study to him, whatever she 
 did or was trying to do. In any case, there 
 was much good in her that he had fathomed, 
 and more was suggested ; and the finer the 
 nature, the stronger the contrasts. Now as 
 to contrasts — yet he had never seen that in 
 Australia. 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts ! " 
 
 Ten thousand pounds would not have bought 
 them. It was his wife on the threshold, in a 
 pale pink wrapper. 
 
 " My dear ! I pictured you asleep hours 
 ago." 
 
 " Were you picturing me when I spoke ? " 
 Ruth said, with a smile. " I'm not sleepy — 
 and I want to talk to you. May I sit down ? 
 An hour more or less makes no difference at 
 this time of the morning." 
 
 Erskine rose from the easy-chair in which 
 he had been smoking, and settled his wife in 
 it agfainst her will, and drew the curtains across 
 the open window.
 
 1 68 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " I'm glad you've come down, Ruth, for I 
 want to speak to you, too. I was a brute to 
 you when I sent you away just now." 
 
 " Well, I really think you were ; but I 
 know you must have had some reason ; so 
 I've come down to have it out and be done 
 with it." 
 
 " My dear Ruth ! " said Mr. Holland uncom- 
 fortably ; for was there any call to be frank 
 with her at all ? It would hurt ; and could it 
 do any good ? 
 
 " I suppose," pursued Ruth in a tone not 
 perfectly free from defiance, " it's all because 
 we went to this horrid dance ! And I'll say 
 I'm sorry we did go, if you like ; though why 
 you should have such a down on the Dromards 
 I can't for the life of me imagine." 
 
 " My dear girl," said Erskine, smiling now 
 that he had determined not to say everything, 
 " I really have no down on them at all. 
 They're the most amiable family I know, con- 
 sidering who they are. They have a charming 
 place, and they treat you delightfully while 
 you're there. Considering who we are, and 
 that we have no root in this soil, I grant you 
 they're particularly kind to us ; but don't you 
 think their kindness is just a little trying ? I
 
 A THREATENING DAWN. 1 69 
 
 do, though I have nothing against them, per- 
 sonally or otherwise. I am not even a polit- 
 ical opponent ; if I had a vote for the division 
 young Manister should have it. But I'm not 
 keen on so much notice from them ; I've said 
 so before ; there's no sense in it ! " 
 
 " Ah, well, if only you would show me the 
 harm in it ! " 
 
 " Harm ? Heaven forbid there should be 
 any. One finds it a bore, that's all. It's a 
 selfish reason, but it's the truth — I should 
 have had a better time this last week if the 
 Dromards had been far enouQfh ! " 
 
 "And we should have had a worse — Tiny 
 and I. No, Erskine, I know you better than 
 you think. You're not so selfish as all that ; 
 there's some other reason." * 
 
 Erskine turned away with a shrug, to avoid 
 her glance. 
 
 " Something has annoyed you to-night. 
 One of us has behaved badly. Was it Tiny 
 or was it " 
 
 " You ? " said Erskine, with a smile. " From 
 what I saw of your behavior, my dear, it was 
 entirely creditable to you as a chaperon. 
 Your face was seventeen, but your air was a 
 frank fifty!"
 
 17° TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Then it was Tiny. I suppose she danced 
 too much with those boys they have staying in 
 the house. I should have thought there was 
 respectabihty in numbers ; I really don't see 
 how they could matter." 
 
 " They seemed to matter to Manister," 
 remarked Erskine dryly. 
 
 Ruth winced, but he had wondered whether 
 she would, or he would never have noticed it. 
 
 " Surely you don't think Lord Manister cares 
 who dances with our Tiny?" 
 
 The amusement in her tone and manner 
 was cleverly feigned, but instead of deceiving 
 Erskine it spurred him to speak out, after all. 
 
 " I hardly like to tell you what I think about 
 7. iny and Lord Manister," he said gravely. 
 
 "What on earth do you mean, Erskine?" 
 cried Ruth, reddening. " Now you 7mtst tell 
 me!" 
 
 Erskine temporized, already regretting that 
 he had said so much. "It would hurt your 
 feelings," he warned her grimly. 
 
 " Not so much as your silence." 
 
 " I wouldn't say it if I didn't look on her as 
 my own sister by this time, and if I didn't 
 think her the best little girl in the world — but 
 one."
 
 A THREATENING DAWN. 171 
 
 Now he spoke tenderly. 
 
 " Say it, in any case," said Ruth, who had 
 been uncommonly calm. 
 
 " Then I am afraid she is making up to him, 
 if you must know." 
 
 " Which is absurd," said Ruth lightly ; but 
 in her anxiety to remain cool she forgot to 
 seem surprised ; and that was a mistake. 
 
 " I wonder if you really think so ?" said her 
 husband very quietly. " If you do I can't 
 agree with you ; I wish I could." 
 
 " You must ! " cried Ruth desperately. " Do 
 you know how many dances she gave him 
 to-niorht?" 
 
 Erskine knew only of one ; his eyes rested 
 on the remains of her programme lying on the 
 floor in many fragments. 
 
 " Well, that one w^as the lot ! " he was In- 
 formed severely. " And pray did 3'ou count 
 how many times she spoke to him the other 
 evening when we dined at the hall ?" 
 
 " Not often, I grant you ; I noticed that." 
 
 "Yet you think she is making up to him!" 
 
 " It's a strong way of putting it, I know," 
 said Erskine reluctantly; "but really I can't 
 think of any other. I wonder you don't realize 
 that there are more ways of making up to a
 
 172 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 man than the dead-set method. Can't you see 
 that a far more effective method is a little judi- 
 cious snubbing and avoiding, which is coquetry? 
 You take my word for it, that's the touch for 
 a man like Manister, who is probably accus- 
 tomed to everything but being snubbed and 
 avoided. Then you speak of the one dance 
 she gave him. Now I happen to know that 
 they didn't dance it at all; they spent the time 
 under the stars, for it was my misfortune to 
 see them and their misfortune not to see me." 
 
 "Well?" whispered Ruth; and though she 
 had never been so dark until now, that whisper 
 would have drawn his lantern to her real hopes 
 and fears. 
 
 " I only saw them for an instant : I bolted ; 
 so I may easily be wrong ; but it struck me 
 that our Tiny was making up for her snubbing 
 and avoiding. It has since occurred to me 
 that they must have known each other rather 
 well in Melbourne — rather better, at any rate, 
 than you have ever led me to suppose." 
 
 As a woman's last resource, Ruth aimed a 
 stone at his temper. 
 
 "So that's it ! " she exclaimed viciously. 
 
 " That's what ? " 
 
 " The secret of your bad temper."
 
 A THREATENING DAWN. 1 73 
 
 "Well, to be kept in the dark doesn't 
 sweeten a man, certainly," Erskine answered, 
 in a tone, however, that was far from bitter. 
 " Then one can't help feeling disappointed 
 with Tiny ; and in this matter — to be frank 
 with you at last — I am just a little disap- 
 pointed in you too, my dear." 
 
 " I always knew you would be," said Ruth 
 dolefully. For her stone had missed, and 
 there was no more fioht in her. 
 
 " Now don't be a goose. It's only in this 
 one matter, in which — I can't help telling you — 
 I don't think you've been perfectly straight 
 with me." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " cried Ruth, as her spirit 
 made one spurt more. It was the last. The 
 next moment she was weeping. 
 
 It annoys most men to make a woman cry. 
 Those who do not become annoyed make im- 
 petuous atonement, partly, no doubt, to drown 
 the hooting in their own heart. But Erskine 
 could not feel himself to blame, and though 
 he spoke very kindl)-, his kindness was too 
 nearly paternal, and he spoke with his elbow 
 on the chimney-piece. He told Ruth not to 
 do that. He pointed out to her that there 
 was no crime in her want of candor concern-
 
 174 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 ing her sister's affairs, which were certainly no 
 business of his. Only, if tliere really had 
 been something between Christina and Lord 
 Manister in Melbourne — if, for instance, Mrs. 
 Willoughby had gossiped unwittingly to 
 Christina about none other than Christina 
 herself — Erskine put it to his wife that she 
 might have done more wisely to place him in 
 a position silently to appreciate such capital 
 jokes. He would have said nothing ; but as 
 it was he might easily have said much to im- 
 peril the situation ; in fact, he had been in a 
 false position all along, more especially at the 
 hall. But that was all. There was really 
 nothing to cry about. Perhaps to give her 
 the fairest opportunity to compose herself, 
 Erskine crossed the room and drew back the 
 curtains to let in the gray morning; for the 
 birds had longr been twitterinof. 
 
 But Ruth had been waitingf for the touch of 
 his hand, and he had only given her kind words. 
 She looked up, and saw through her tears his 
 form against the gray window, as he shut down 
 the sash. The lamp burnt faintly, and in the 
 two wan lights it was a chamber of misery, in 
 which one could not sit alone. Ruth rose and 
 ran to Erskine, and laid her hands upon his arm.
 
 A THREATENING DAWN. 1 75 
 
 " It Is raining," he said, without looking at 
 her tears. " I knew we were in for a break 
 up of the fine weather." 
 
 "Never mind the rain!" Ruth cried pite- 
 ously, with her face upon his coat. " Will 
 you forgive me now if I tell you everything 
 that I know — everything? It isn't much, 
 because Tiny has been almost as close with 
 me as I have been with you." 
 
 " My dear," he said, patting her head at last, 
 and with his arms around her lightly, " you 
 both had a perfect right to be close." 
 
 " But suppose I've been at the bottom of 
 the whole thing ? Suppose I turn out a horrid 
 little intriguer — what then ? " 
 
 She waited eagerly, and the pause seemed 
 long. 
 
 " Well, you won't have been intriguing for 
 yourself," sighed Erskine — so that her face 
 rose on his breast, as on a wave. 
 
 And then, playing nervously with a button 
 of his coat, Ruth confessed all. As she spoke 
 she gathered confidence, but not enough to 
 watch his face. That was turned to the gray 
 morning, and looked as gray as it. The fine 
 weather had indeed broken up, and Essing- 
 ham had lost its savor for Erskine Holland.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 IN THE ladies' TENT. 
 
 And yet, even at the time she made it, Ruth 
 little dreamt how deeply her confession both 
 galled and revolted her husband. He forgave 
 her very kindly in the end, and that satisfied- 
 her lean imagination. Perhaps there was not 
 much to forgive. There was enough, at all 
 events, to trouble Erskine (to whom the best 
 excuse there was for her was the least likely 
 to suggest itself) ; but the matter soon ceased 
 to trouble Erskine's wife, because his smile 
 was as good-tempered as before. He seemed, 
 indeed, to think no more about it. When 
 Ruth would speak confidentially of her hopes 
 and wishes for Tiny (as though Erskine had 
 been in her confidence all the time), he would 
 chat the matter over with interest, which was 
 the next best thing to sympathy. He had to 
 do this oftener than he liked during the next 
 twenty-four hours ; for Ruth really thought 
 that excessive candor now was a more or les5? 
 
 176
 
 IN THE LADIES' TENT. I77 
 
 adequate atonement for an excessive reserve 
 in the past. Moreover, she genuinely enjoyed 
 talking openly at last of the matter which had 
 concerned her so long and so severely in 
 secret. 
 
 " Don't you think he means it ?" she asked 
 her husband several times. 
 
 " I am afraid he thinks he does," was one of 
 Holland's answers. 
 
 " That's your way of admitting it," rejoined 
 Ruth, who could bear his repudiation of her 
 desires for the sake of his assent to her opin- 
 ion, which Erskine was too honest to withhold. 
 " Of course he means it. Have you noticed 
 how he watches her ? " 
 
 " I have noticed it once or twice." 
 
 " And did you see him watching his mother, 
 the night Vv^e dined there, to see what impres- 
 sion Tiny made upon her?" 
 
 "So you spotted that!" Erskine said curi- 
 ously, not having given his wife the credit for 
 such acute perception. " Well, I own that 
 I did, too ; and that was worse than his watch- 
 ing Tiny. This is a youth with a well-known 
 weakness for his mamma. She has probably 
 more influence over him tiian any other body 
 in the world. 1 am prepared to bet that it
 
 lyS TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 was she, and she alone, who whistled him back 
 from Australia. Now though she did it 
 partly by her singing — which, by the way, was 
 rather cheap for our Tiny — there's no doubt 
 at all about the impression Tiny has made 
 upon Lady Dromard ; and that's the worst 
 of it." 
 
 " The worst of it ! as if he was beneath 
 her ! " said Ruth mockingly. " Or is it that 
 you think her too terribly beneath him?" 
 
 " Tiny," said Erskine, shaking his head, 
 ** is beneath no man that I have yet come 
 across." 
 
 " Then what can you have against it ? Is 
 it that you think she will grow so grand that 
 we shall see no more of her! If so, it shows 
 how much you know of our Tiny. Or do you 
 think him too high and mighty to be honest 
 and true ? I don't profess to know much 
 about it," continued Ruth scornfully, being 
 stung to eloquence by his perversity, "but 
 I should have said an honest man and his 
 love might be found in a castle, sometimes, 
 as well as in a cottage ! " 
 
 " ' Hearts just as pure and fair may beat in 
 Belgrave Square as in the lowly air of Seven 
 Dials,' " quoted Erskine, with a laugh. " I
 
 IN THE LADIES' TENT. 179 
 
 grant all that ; but if you want to know, my 
 point is that Tiny would be thrown away on 
 Belgrave Square ! She is far too funny and 
 fresh, and unlike most of us, to thrive in that 
 fine soil ; she would need to be clipped and 
 pruned and trimmed in the image of other 
 people. And that would spoil her. What- 
 ever else she may be, she's more or less orig- 
 inal as she stands. She's not a copy now; 
 but she will have to become one in Belgrave 
 Square." 
 
 '' She will have to become one ! " cried Ruth, 
 jumping at the change of mood. "Then you 
 think that Tiny means it, too?" 
 
 " I am afraid she means to marry him," said 
 Erskine, with a sigh. *' I have visions of our 
 Tiny ours no more, but my Lady Manister, 
 and Countess Dromard in due course." 
 
 So delighted was Ruth with his opinion on 
 this point that his other opinions had no 
 power to annoy her ; and in her joy she told 
 him once more, and with much impulsive feel- 
 ing, how sorry she was for having kept him in 
 the dark so willfully and so long. She called 
 him an angel of good temper and forbear- 
 ance, and undertook to reward his generosity 
 by never hiding another tiling from him in lier
 
 l8o TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 life. And she would never, never vex him 
 again, she said — so earnestly that he thought 
 she meant it, as indeed she thought herself, 
 for half a minute. 
 
 " But you mean to go to the match to- 
 morrow ? " he asked her wistfully. 
 
 " Oh, we must — if it's fine. It's the last 
 match of the week ; besides, Herbert's going 
 to play." 
 
 This was an argument, and Erskine said no 
 more. The chances are that he would have 
 said no more in any case. The following 
 afternoon Ruth drove with Tiny to the match, 
 and with a particularly light heart, because 
 she had not heard another word against the 
 plan. Her one remaining anxiety was lest it 
 might rain before they got to the cricket field. 
 
 For the day was one of those dull ones of 
 early autumn when there is little wind, a gray 
 sky, and more than a chance of rain ; but 
 none had fallen durinp- the mornino^, whicli 
 reduced the chance ; while the clouds were 
 high, and occasionally parted by faint rays of 
 sunsliine. The cfround was so beautiful in 
 itself that it was the greater pity there was no 
 more sun, since, without it, well-kept turf and 
 tall trees are like a sweet face saddened. The
 
 IM THE LADIES' TENT. l8l 
 
 trees were the fine elms of that country, and 
 they flanked two sides of the ground ; but one 
 missed their shadows, and the fohage had a 
 dingy, lack-luster look in the tame light. On 
 the third side a ha-ha formed a natural 
 " boundary," and the red, spreading house 
 stood aloof on the fourth, giving a touch of 
 welcome warmth to i picture whose highest 
 lights were the white flannels of the players 
 and the canvas tents. The tents were many, 
 and admirably arranged ; but one beneath the 
 elms had a side on the ground to itself; and 
 thither drove Mrs. Holland, alighting rather 
 nervously as a groom came promptly to the 
 pony's head, because this was the ladies' tent. 
 To-day, however, the tent was not formi- 
 dably full, as it had been when the girls had 
 watched the cricket from it earlier in the 
 week ; this was only the Saturday's match. 
 Ruth looked in vain for Lady Dromard, but 
 received a cold greeting from her daughter, 
 Lady Mary, upon whom the guinea stamp 
 was disagreeably fresh and sharp. The sight 
 of Mrs. Willoughby and her friend Mrs. 
 Foster-Simpson on a front sc;at was a relief 
 at the moment (the sight of anything to nod 
 to is a relief sometimes) ; but Ruth was dis-
 
 1 82 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 creet enough to sit down behind these ladies, 
 not beside them. She conoratulated herself 
 on her presence of mind when she heard the 
 tone and character of some of their comments 
 on the game. It would have done Ruth no 
 good to be seen at the side of loud Mrs. 
 Foster-Simpson or of loquacious Mrs. Wil- 
 loughby, and it might have done Tiny grave 
 harm. Mrs. Willoughby's husband, who had 
 good-naturedly become eleventh man at the 
 eleventh hour, was conspicuous in the field 
 from his black trousers, clerical wide-awake, 
 and shirt-sleeves of gray flannel. " I hope 
 you admire him," said his wife over her 
 shoulder to Ruth ; " I tell him he might as 
 well take a funeral in flannels !" 
 
 " Or dine in his surplice," added her friend 
 Mrs. Foster-Simpson in a voice that carried 
 to the back of the tent. 
 
 " I just do admire Mr. Willoughby," Ruth 
 said softly; "he has a soul above appear- 
 ances," 
 
 " You're not his wife," replied the lady who 
 was. 
 
 "You may thank your stars ! " shouted her 
 too familiar friend. 
 
 Little Mrs. Holland turned to her sister and
 
 IM THE LADIES' TENT. 183 
 
 Speculated aloud as to the state of the game, 
 but her tone was an example to the ladies in 
 front, who nevertheless did not lower theirs to 
 supply the gratuitous information that the 
 Mundham players had been fielding all day. 
 
 " They're getting the worst of it," declared 
 Mrs. Willoughby, perhaps prematurely. 
 
 " Do them good," her friend said viciously, 
 but with the soft pedal down for once. " There 
 would have been no holding them. That young 
 Dromard, now — it will take it out of him. He 
 wants it takino^ out of him ! " 
 
 Mr. Stanley Dromard, who had been scoring 
 heavily all the week, happened to be in the 
 deep field close to the tent. Ruth nudged her 
 sister, and they moved further along their 
 row in order to avoid the bonnets in front. 
 
 " Horrid people ! " whispered Ruth. 
 
 "That's the earl by the canvas screen," 
 answered Tiny. " I should like to send him a 
 new straw hat ! " 
 
 " Hush ! " whispered Ruth in terror. 
 " You're as bad as they are. Tell me, do you 
 see Herbert ? " 
 
 "Yes, there he is, all by himself. There's 
 a man out." 
 
 " Is there ? How tired they seem ! That's
 
 l84 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Lord Manister sprawling on the grass. What 
 a boy he looks ! You wouldn't think he was 
 anybody in particular, would you?" 
 
 " I should liope not, indeed, on the cricket 
 field ! " 
 
 " I only meant he looked rather nice." 
 
 " Certainly he looks nicer in flannels than 
 in anything else; his tailor has less to do with it." 
 
 The patience of Ruth was inexhaustible. 
 She watched the game until another wicket 
 fell. Then it was her admiration for the scene 
 that escaped in more whispers. 
 
 " Is7it it a lovely place, Tiny ? " 
 
 " Oh, it's all that. 
 
 " I've never seen one to touch it, and I have 
 seen two or three, you knovv^, since we were 
 married. But the house is the best part of it 
 all. I would give anything to live in a house 
 like that — wouldn't you ?" 
 
 "I? My immortal soul!" 
 
 And Tiny sighed, but Ruth, looking round 
 quickly, saw laughter in her eyes, and said no 
 more. Tiny was very trying. Was she half 
 in earnest, or wholly in jest? Ruth could 
 never tell ; and now, while she wondered, a 
 ladv who knew her sat down on her rioht. 
 Ruth was glad enough to shake hands and
 
 IN THE LADIES' TENT. 185 
 
 talk, and not sorr}' in this case to be seen 
 doing so, while at the moment it was a very 
 human pleasure to her to leave Tiny to take 
 care of herself. And that was a thing at 
 which Tiny may be said to have excelled, so 
 far as one saw, and no farther. The attacks 
 of most tongues she was capable of repelling 
 with distinction ; against those of her own 
 thouofhts she made ever the feeblest resist- 
 ance ; and at this stage of Christina's career 
 her own thoughts were a swarm of flies upon 
 a wound in her heart. That was the truth — 
 and no one suspected it. 
 
 During the' next quarter of an hour the in- 
 nings came to an end, and the fielders trooped 
 over to the group of tents at another side of the 
 ground. Tiny hoped that one of them would 
 have the good taste to come to the ladies' tent 
 and talk to her ; an Eton boy would do very 
 well ; tierbert would be better than nobody: 
 but she hoped in vain. On her right Ruth 
 had turned her back, and was quite taken up 
 with the lady with whom she was not sorry 
 to be seen in conversation. The chairs on 
 her left were all empty ; and those flies were 
 fighting for her heart. It was the rustle of 
 silk disturbed them in the end ; and Lady
 
 1 86 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Dromard who sat down in the empty chair 
 on Tiny's left. 
 
 " I am so glad to see you both," said the 
 countess as though she meant it ; and she 
 leant over to shake hands with Ruth, whose 
 back was now turned upon her new found 
 friend. Not so much was said to the pair in 
 front, though those ladies had something to 
 say for themselves. Lady Dromard gave 
 them very small change in smiles, but made 
 the conversation general for a minute or 
 two, with that graceful tact at which, perhaps, 
 she was, in a manner, a professional. With 
 equal facility she dropped them from her talk 
 one after another, much as the last wickets 
 had fallen in the match, and until only Tiny 
 was left in. For the countess had come 
 there expressly to talk to Miss Luttrell, as 
 she herself stated with charming directness. 
 
 " I was afraid you were feeling dull ; though 
 really you deserve to, Miss Luttrell." 
 
 "I was," said Tiny honestly; "but I don't 
 know what I have done to deserve to, Lady 
 Dromard." 
 
 " It's the last match, and a poor one, which 
 nobody cares anything about. You should 
 have come earlier in the week."
 
 IN THE LADIES' TENT. 1 87 
 
 "We were here on Wednesday afternoon." 
 
 "But why not oftener? My second son 
 made ninety-three on Thursday. I do wish 
 you had seen that ! " 
 
 " It wasn't my fault that I didn't," remarked 
 Miss Luttrell. " I suppose things came in 
 the way." 
 
 " Then you are a cricketer !" exclaimed the 
 countess. " I am glad to hear it, for I am a 
 great cricketer myself. No, I don't play, Miss 
 Luttrell ; only I know all about it." 
 
 Christina candidly confessed that she was 
 not a cricketer in any sense — that, in fact, she 
 knew very little about cricket ; and the count- 
 ess, who considered how many girls would 
 have pretended to know much, was more 
 pleased with this answer than she would have 
 been with an exhibition of real knowledge of 
 the game. 
 
 " My only interest in this match, however," 
 explained Lady Dromard, " is in my eldest 
 son. I do so want him to make runs ! He 
 has been dreadfully unsuccessful all the week." 
 
 Christina was discreetly sympathetic. 
 
 " He is going in first," murmured the 
 countess presently in suppressed excitement. 
 " We must watch the match."
 
 1 88 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 So they sat without speaking during the 
 first few overs, and the silence did much for 
 Christina, by putting her at her ease in the 
 hour when she needed all the ease at her 
 command. Cool as she was outwardly, in her 
 heart she was not a little afraid of Lady 
 Dromard, whose manner toward herself 
 had already struck her as rather too kind and 
 much too scrutinizing. She now entertained 
 a perfectly private conviction that Lady 
 Dromard either knevv^ somethinor about her 
 or had her suspicions. Not that this made 
 Christina particularly uncomfortable at the 
 moment. The countess had eyes and wits for 
 the game only, following it intently through a 
 heavy field glass grown light now that Manis- 
 ter was battinor. 
 
 It was difficult to realize that this easier, 
 animated woman was the mother of the young 
 fellow at the wicket, she looked so very 
 little older than her son ; or so it seemed to 
 Tiny, who now had ample opportunity to 
 study not only her face and figure, but her 
 quiet, hanclsoine bonnet and faultless dress. 
 Even Tiny could not help admiring Lady 
 Dromard. Suddenly, however, the hand that 
 held the field-glass was allowed to drop, and
 
 IN THE LADIES' TENT. 189 
 
 the fine face flushed with disappointment as 
 a round of applause burst from the field and 
 found no echo in the tents. 
 
 " Manister is out ! " exclaimed the countess. 
 " He has only made two or three ! " 
 
 " How fond she is of him," thought the 
 girl, still watching her companion's face, which 
 somehow softened Christina toward both 
 mother and son ; so that now it was with real 
 sympathy that she remarked, " Poor Lord 
 Manister ! I am very sorry." 
 
 Some expressions of condolence from the 
 seats in front threw the young girl's words 
 into advantageous relief. 
 
 The countess said presently to Christina, 
 " I am sorry it has turned out so dull a day ; 
 the ground looks really nice when it is fine 
 and sunny." 
 
 " It is a beautiful ground," answered Tiny 
 simply ; "the trees are so splendid." 
 
 "Ah, but you're used to splendid trees." 
 
 "In Australia? Well, we are and we are 
 not, Lady Dromard. I mean to say, there 
 are tremendous trees in some parts ; in others 
 there are none at all, you know. Up the 
 bush, where we used to live, the trees were of 
 very little account."
 
 ipo TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " I thought the bush was nothing- ^uf 
 trees," remarked Lady Dromard ; and Chris- 
 tina could not help smiling as she explained 
 the comprehensive character of "the bush." 
 
 " So you were actually brought up on a 
 sheep farm ! " said Lady Dromard, looking 
 flatteringly at the graceful young girl. 
 
 "Yes — on a station. It was in the bush, 
 and very much the bush," laughed Tiny, "for 
 we were hundreds of miles up country. But 
 most of the trees v/ere no higher than this 
 tent, Lady Dromard. The homestead was in 
 a clump of pines, and they were pretty tall, 
 but the rest were mere scrub." 
 
 " Then how in the world," cried her lady- 
 ship, "did you manage to become educated? 
 What school could you go to in a place like 
 that?" 
 
 "We never went to school at all," Tiny 
 informed her confidentially. " We had a 
 governess." 
 
 "Ah, and she taught you to sing ! I should 
 like to meet that governess. She must be a 
 very clever person." 
 
 Herladyship's manner was delightfully blunt. 
 
 "Now, Lady Dromard, you're laughing at 
 me! I know nothing — I have read nothincr."
 
 m THE LADIES' TE.VT. 191 
 
 "I rejoice to hear it!" cried the countess 
 cordially. " I assure you, Miss Luttrell, that's 
 a most refreshing confession in these days. 
 Only it's too good to be true. I don't believe 
 you, you know." 
 
 Christina made no Qrreat effort to establish 
 the truth of her statement ; for some minutes 
 longer they watched the game. 
 
 But the countess was not interested, though 
 her younger son had gone in, and had already 
 begun to score. " What were they ? " she said 
 at length with extreme obscurity ; but Chris- 
 tina was polite enough not to ask her what 
 she meant until she had put this question to 
 herself, and while she still hesitated Lady 
 Dromard recollected herself, appreciated the 
 hesitation, and explained. " I mean the trees 
 in the bush, at your farm. Were they gum 
 trees ?" 
 
 '' Very few of them — there are hardly any 
 gum trees up there." 
 
 " Do you know that / have a young gum 
 tree?" said Lady Dromard amusingly, as 
 though it were a young opossum. 
 
 ''No!" said Tiny incredulously. 
 
 " But I have, in the conservatory ; you might 
 have seen it the other evening."
 
 192 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 "How I wish I had!" * 
 
 The young girl's face wore a flush of genu- 
 ine animation. Lady Dromard regarded it 
 for a moment, and admired it very much ; then 
 she bent forward and touched Ruth on the 
 arm. 
 
 " Mrs. Holland, will you trust your sister to 
 me for half an hour? I want to show her 
 something that will interest her more than the 
 cricket." 
 
 "Oh, Lady Dromard, I can't think of 
 taking you away from the match," cried Chris- 
 tina, while Ruth's eyes danced, and the bon- 
 nets in front turned round. 
 
 " My dear Miss Luttrell, it will interest 7ne 
 more, now that Lord Manister is out." 
 
 " But there's Mr. Dromard." 
 
 "Oh, that boy! He has made more runs 
 this week than are good for him. Miss Lut- 
 trell, am I to go alone ?" 
 
 The bonnets in front knocked together.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 
 
 If Tiny Luttrell suffered at all from self-^ 
 consciousness as she followed Lady Dromard 
 from the tent, she hid it uncommonly well. 
 Her color did not change, while her expres- 
 sion was neither bashful nor bold, and unnat- 
 ural only in its entire naturalness. Considering 
 that the conversation in the ladies' tent under- 
 went a momentary lull, by no means so slight 
 as to escape a sensitive ear, the girl's serene 
 bearing at the countess' skirts was in its way 
 an achievement of which no one thoug-ht more 
 highly than Lady Dromard herself. Christina 
 had not merely imagined that she was being 
 systematically watched. No sooner were they 
 in the open air than the countess wheeled 
 abruptly, expecting to surprise some slight 
 embarrassment, not unpardonable in so young 
 a face ; and this was not the only occasion on 
 which she was agreeably disappointed in little 
 Miss Luttrell. The short cut to the house 
 
 193
 
 1 94 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 was a narrow path that crossed an intervening 
 paddock. They followed this path. But now 
 Lady Dromard walked behind, with eyes 
 slightly narrowed ; and still she approved. 
 
 Presently they reached the conservatory. 
 It was large and lofty, and the smooth white 
 flags and spreading fronds gave it an appear- 
 ance of coolness and quiet very different from 
 Christina's recollection of the place on the 
 night of the dance, when Chinese lanterns had 
 shone and smoked and smelt among the foli- 
 age, and a frivolous hum had filled the air. 
 The gum tree proved to be a sapling of no 
 great promise or pretensions. Nor was it 
 seen to advantage, being planted in the cen- 
 tral bed, in the midst of some admirable palms 
 and tree-ferns. But Tiny made a long arm 
 to seize the leaves and pull them to her nos- 
 trils, settinof foot on the soft soil in her excite- 
 ment ; and when she started back, with an 
 apology for the mark, her face was beaming. 
 
 " But that was a real whiff of Australia," 
 she added gratefully — "the first I've had 
 since I sailed. It was very, very good of you 
 to bring me, Lady Dromard. If you knew 
 how it reminds me ! " 
 
 " I thought it would interest you," remarked
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 195 
 
 Lady Dromard, who was herself more inter- 
 ested in the footprint on the soil, which was 
 absurdly small. " If you like I will show you 
 something that should remind you still more." 
 
 " Oh, of course I like to see anything Aus- 
 tralian ; but I am sure I am troubling you a 
 great deal, Lady Dromard ! " 
 
 *' Not in the least, my dear Miss Luttrell. 
 I have something extremely Australian to 
 show you now." 
 
 Countess Dromard led the way through the 
 room in which Tiny had danced. It w^as still 
 carpetless and empty, and the clatter of her 
 walking shoes on the floor which her ball slip- 
 pers had skimmed so noiselessly struck a note 
 that jarred. The desire came over Tiny to 
 turn back. As they passed through the hall, 
 a side door stood open ; the girl saw it with a 
 gasp for the open air. It was an odd sensa- 
 tion, as of the march into prison. It made her 
 lag while it lasted ; when it passed it was as 
 thouo-h weights had been removed from her 
 feet. She ran lightly up the shallow stairs ; 
 Lady Dromard was waiting on the landing, 
 and led her aloncr a corridor. 
 
 Here Tiny forgot that her feet had drummed 
 vague misgivings into her mind ; she could no
 
 196 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 longer hear her own steps the corridor was so 
 thickly carpeted. It was a special corridor, 
 leading to a very special room of delicate tints 
 and dainty furniture, and Christina was so far 
 herself again as to enter without a qualm. 
 But her qualms had been a rather singular 
 thin Of. 
 
 " This is my own little chapel of ease, Miss 
 Luttrell," the countess explained ; " and now 
 do you not see a fellow-countryman ? " 
 
 She pointed to the window ; and in front of 
 the window was a pedestal supporting a gilded 
 cage, and in the cage a pink-and-gray parrot, 
 of a kind with which the girl had been familiar 
 from her infancy. '' Oh, you beauty ! " cried 
 Christina, going to the cage and scratching 
 the bird's head through the wires, " It's a 
 galar," she added. 
 
 " Indeed," said Lady Dromard, watching 
 her; " a galar ! I must remember that. By 
 the way, can 3'ou tell me why he doesn't talk ? " 
 
 Christina answered, in asHghtly preoccupied 
 manner, that galars very seldom did. She had 
 become quite absorbed in the bird ; she 
 seemed easily pleased. She went the length 
 of asking whether she might take him out, 
 and received a hesitating permission to do so
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 197 
 
 at her own risk, Lady Dromard confessing 
 that for her own part she was quite afraid to 
 touch him through the wires. In a twinkling 
 the ofirl had the bird in her hand, and was 
 smoothing its feathers with her chin. The 
 sun was beginning to struggle through the 
 clouds ; the window faced the west ; and the 
 faint rays, falling on the young girl's face and 
 the bird's bright plumage, threw a good light 
 on a charming picture. Lady Dromard was 
 reminded of the artificial art of her young 
 days, when this was a favorite posture, and 
 searched narrowly for artifice in her guest. 
 Finding none she admired more keenly than 
 before, but became also more timid on the 
 other's account, so that she could fancy the 
 blood sliding down the fair skin which the 
 beak actually touched. 
 
 " Dear Miss Luttrell, do put him back ! I 
 tremble for you." 
 
 Tiny put the quiet thing back on the perch. 
 Then she turned to Lady Dromard with rather 
 a comic expression. 
 
 "Do you know what we used to do with 
 this gentleman up on the station ?" said Tiny 
 shamefacedly. " We poisoned him wholesale 
 to save our crop. But this one seems like an
 
 198 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 old friend to me. Lady Dromard, you have 
 taken me back to the bush this afternoon ! " 
 
 "So it appears," observed the countess 
 dryly, "or I think you would admire my little 
 view. That's Gallovv Hill, and I'm rather 
 proud of my view of it, because it is the only 
 hill of any sort in these parts. Then the sun 
 sets behind it, and those three trees stand 
 out so." 
 
 "Ah! I have often wanted to climb up to 
 those three trees," said Tiny, who took a tan- 
 talized interest in Gallow Hill ; " but I mayn't, 
 because I'm in England, where trespassers 
 will be prosecuted." 
 
 For a moment Lady Dromard stared. Then 
 she saw that Christina had merely forgotten. 
 "Dear me, that stupid notice board!" ex- 
 claimed the countess. " Lord Dromard never 
 meant it to apply to everybody. Next time 
 you come here come over Gallow Hill, and 
 through the little green gate you can just see. 
 You will find it a quarter of the distance." 
 
 Christina had indeed spoken without think- 
 ing of Gallow Hill as a part of the estate, or of 
 the warning to trespassers as Lord Dromard's 
 doing. Now she apologized, and was natu- 
 rally a little confused; but this time the count-
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 199 
 
 ess would not have had her otherwise. "You 
 shall go back that way this very evening," she 
 said kindly, " and I promise you shan't be pros- 
 ecuted." But Christina had to pet her fellow- 
 countryman for a minute or two before she 
 quite regained her ease, while her ladyship 
 touched the bell and ordered tea. 
 
 "How fond you must be of the bush!" 
 Lady Dromard exclaimed as the girl still 
 lingered by the cage. 
 
 " I like it very much," said Christina 
 soberly. 
 
 " Better than Melbourne?" 
 
 " Oh, infinitely." 
 
 "And England?" 
 
 " Yes, better than England — I can't help it," 
 Tiny added apologetically. 
 
 "There's no reason why you should," said 
 Lady Dromard, with a smile. " I could im- 
 agine your quite disliking England after Aus- 
 tralia. I'm sure my son disliked it when he 
 first came back." 
 
 " Did he ? " the girl said indifferently. " Ah, 
 well ! I don't dislike England. I admire it very 
 much, and, of course, it is ever so much better 
 than Australia in every way. We have no vil- 
 lages like Essingham out there, no red tiles and
 
 200 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 old churches, and certainly no villagers who 
 treat you like a queen on wheels when you walk 
 down the street. We've nothing of that sort — 
 nor of this sort either — no splendid old houses 
 and beautiful old grounds ! But I can't help 
 it, I'd rather live out there. Give me the 
 bush!" 
 
 " You are enthusiastic about the bush," said 
 Lady Dromard, laughing ; " yet you don't 
 know how fresh enthusiasm is to one now- 
 adays." 
 
 " I'm afraid I'm not enthusiastic about any- 
 thing else, then," answered Christina with 
 engaging candor. *' They tell me I don't half 
 appreciate England; I disappoint all my 
 friends here." 
 
 " Ah, that is perhaps your little joke at our 
 expense ! " 
 
 Christina was on the brink of an audacious 
 reply when a footman entered with the tea 
 tray. That took some of the audacity out of 
 her. She had not heard the order given. 
 Once more she reflected where she was, and 
 with whom, and once more she wished herself 
 elsewhere. It was a mild return of her panic 
 downstairs. Now she felt vaguely apprehen- 
 sive and as vaguely exultant. In the uncer-
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 201 
 
 tain fusion of her feelings she was apt to 
 become a Httle unguarded in what she said ; 
 there was safety in her sense of this tendency, 
 however. 
 
 Lady Dromard was reflecting also. As the 
 footman withdrew she had told him not to 
 shut the door. The truth was she had got 
 Christina to herself by pure design, though 
 she had not originally intended to get her to 
 herself up here. That had been an inspiration 
 of the moment, and even now Lady Dromard 
 was by no means sure of its wisdom. She had 
 gone so far as to closet herself with this girl, 
 but she did not wish the proceeding to appear 
 so pronounced either to the footman or to the 
 girl herself. It would make the footman talk, 
 while it might frighten the girl. That, at any 
 rate, was the idea of Countess Dromard, who, 
 however, had not yet learnt her way about the 
 young mind with which she was dealing. 
 
 The tea tray had been placed on a small 
 table near the window. Lady Dromard 
 promptly settled herself with her back to the 
 light, and motioned Christina to a chair facing 
 her. 
 
 " Now you'll be able to watch your beloved 
 bird," said her ladyship craftily. " I thought
 
 202 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 we miofht as well have tea now we are here. I 
 thought it would be so much more comfortable 
 than having it in the tent." 
 
 Tiny settled a business matter by stating 
 that she took two pieces of sugar, but only 
 one spot of cream. Unconsciously, however, 
 she had followed Lady Dromard's advice, for 
 her eyes were fixed on the parrot in the 
 cage. 
 
 " I have only had him a few months," 
 observed the countess suggestively. " Some- 
 thing less than a year, I should say." 
 
 "Yes?" And Tiny lowered her eyes 
 politely to her hostess' face. 
 
 "Yes," repeated Lady Dromard affirma- 
 tively. " My son brought him home for n\e. 
 It was the only present he had time to get, 
 so I rather value it." 
 
 The girl's gaze returned involuntarily to 
 the bird she had caressed ; apparently her 
 interest was neither diminished nor increased 
 by this information as to its origin. 
 
 " He was in a great hurry to run away from 
 us, was he not.'*" she remarked inoffensively ; 
 but there was no attempt in her m.anner to 
 conceal the fact that Christina knew what she 
 was talking about.
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 203 
 
 ■" He was obliged to return rather suddenly," 
 said the countess after a moment's hesitation. 
 She made a longer pause before slyly adding, 
 " I consider myself very lucky to have got 
 him back at all." 
 
 " How is that, Lady Dromard?" 
 
 And Christina outstared the countess, so 
 that she was asked whether she would not 
 take another cup of tea. She would, and her 
 hand neither rattled it empty nor spilt it full. 
 Then Lady Dromard smiled at the coronet 
 on her teaspoon, and said to it : 
 
 " The fact is I was terrified lest he should 
 go and marry one of you." 
 
 "One of ?^^.?" 
 
 " Some fascinating Australian beauty," said 
 Lady Dromard hastily. " So many aids-de- 
 camp have done that." 
 
 " Poor — young — men ! " said Tiny, as slowly 
 and solemnly as though her words were going 
 to the young men's funeral. " It would have 
 been a calamity indeed." 
 
 So far from showing indignation Lady 
 Dromard leant forward in her chair to say in 
 her most winning manner : 
 
 " I sliould have been all the more terrified 
 had I known j)/^z^, Miss Luttrell !"
 
 204 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Clearly this was meant for one of those 
 blunt effective compliments to which Lady 
 Dromard had the peculiar knack of imparting 
 delicacy and grace. But the words were no 
 sooner uttered than she saw their double 
 meaning, and grimly awaited the obvious mis- 
 construction. Tiny, however, had a quick 
 perception, and plenty of common sense in 
 little things. Instead of a snub the countess 
 received a good-tempered smile, for which she 
 could not help feeling grateful at the time ; 
 but now her instinct told her that she was 
 dealing with a person with whom it might be 
 well to be a little more downright, and she 
 obeyed her instinct without further delay. 
 
 "■ Miss Luttrell, I am sure there is no occa- 
 sion for me to beat about the bush — with you," 
 she betran in an altered, but a no less flattering 
 tone ; " I see that one is quite safe in being 
 frank with you. The fact is — and you know 
 it — my son very nearly did marry someone 
 out there. Now you met him out there in 
 society, and you probably knew everyone 
 there who was worth knowing, so pray don't 
 pretend that you know nothing about this." 
 
 Their eyes were joined, but at the moment 
 Christina's was the cooler qlance.
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 205 
 
 " I couldn't pretend that, Lady Dromard, 
 for it happens that I know all about it." 
 
 The countess was perceptibly startled. 
 " The girl was a friend of yours ? "she inquired 
 quickly. 
 
 " A great friend," answered Tiny, nodding. 
 
 " How I wish you would tell me her name !" 
 
 " I mustn't' do that." This was said decid- 
 edly. " But it seems a strange thing that you 
 don't know it." 
 
 " It is a strange thing," Lady Dromard 
 allowed ; " nevertheless it's the truth. I never 
 heard her name. You may imagine my 
 curiosity. Miss Luttrell, I seem to have felt 
 ever since I met you that you knew some- 
 thing about this — that you could tell one 
 somethinor. And I don't mind confessinp- to 
 you now — since I see 3^ou are not the one to 
 misunderstand me willfully — that I have pur- 
 posely sought an opportunity of sounding you 
 on the subject." 
 
 Christina smiled, for this was not news to 
 her. 
 
 " My son will tell me nothing," continued 
 Lady Dromard, " and I have, of course, the 
 greatest curiosity to know everything. It is 
 no idle curiosity, Miss Luttrell. I am his
 
 2o6 , TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 mother, and he has never got over that attach- 
 ment." 
 
 " Has he not ?" said Tiny with dry satire. 
 
 " He has never got over it," repeated Lady 
 Dromard in a tone which was a match for the 
 other. " Has the girl ? " 
 
 Tiny v/as startled in her turn. She hesi- 
 tated before replying, and seemed to waver 
 over the nature of her reply. It \vas the first 
 sign she had shown of w^avering at all, and 
 Lady Dromard drew her breath. The girl 
 was hanging her head, and murmuring that 
 she really could not answer for the other girl. 
 Suddenly she flung up her face, and it was 
 hot, but not hotter than her words : 
 
 " Yes, Lady Dromard, you are his mother. 
 But the girl was my friend. He treated her 
 abominably ! " 
 
 " It wasn't his fault — it was mine," said 
 Lady Dromard steadily. 
 
 " I'm afraid that does not make one think 
 any better of him," murmured the young girl. 
 Ller chin was resting in her hand. The flush 
 had passed from her face as suddenly as it 
 had come. Her eyes were raised to the sky 
 out of the window, and there was in them the 
 sad, hardened, reckless look that those who
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 207 
 
 knew her best had seen too often, latterly, in 
 her silent moments. The sun was dropping 
 clear of the clouds, and the brighter rays fell 
 kindly over Tiny's dark hair and pale, piquant 
 face. The keen eye that was on her had 
 never watched more closely nor admired so 
 much. 
 
 " Consider ! " said Lady Dromard presently, 
 and rather gently. " Try to put yourself in 
 our place — and consider. We have a position, 
 here in England, of which very few people can 
 be got to take a sensible view ; half the 
 country professes an absurd contempt for it, 
 while the other half speaks of it and of us 
 with bated breath. We ourselves naturally 
 think something of our position, and we try, 
 as we say, to keep it up. Of course we are 
 worldly, in the popular sense. We bring up 
 our children with worldly ideas. They must 
 make worldly marriages in their own station. 
 Is it so very contemptible that we should see 
 to this, and dread beyond most things an 
 unwise or an unequal marriage? Nov/ do 
 consider : we let our son go out to Australia, 
 because it is good for a young man to see the 
 world before he marries and settles down — 
 and mind ! that was what he was about to do.
 
 208 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 If he had not gone to Australia then, he would 
 have been married at once. He was all but 
 engaged. It was a case of putting off the 
 engagement instead of the marriage. We do 
 not believe in long, formal engagements ; we 
 do not permit them. We find them undesira- 
 ble for many reasons. So, you see, he goes 
 out to Australia as good as engaged, but 
 unable to say so, and very young, and no 
 doubt very susceptible. Can you wonder that 
 I tremble for him when he has gone ? Well, 
 he is the best son in the world, and has told 
 me everything always. That is my comfort. 
 But presently he tells one things in his letters 
 which make one tremble more than ever, 
 though he tells them jokingly. Then a 
 cousin of Lord Dromard's stays a day or two 
 in Melbourne and comes home with a 
 report " 
 
 Christina's face twitched in the sunlight. 
 " I suppose that was Captain Dromard?" she 
 said quietly ; " I never met him, but I saw 
 him." She seemed to see him then, and that 
 was why her face twitched. She was still 
 staring out of the window at the yellowing 
 sky. 
 
 " Captain Dromard had forgotten the girl's
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 209 
 
 name," said the countess pointedly; "but 
 he told me enough to make me write to my 
 boy — I nearly cabled ! And do you think I 
 
 was wrong ? " 
 
 " Not from your point of view, Lady Dro- 
 mard," answered Christina judicially, with her 
 eyes half closed in the slanting sunbeams 
 which she chose to face. " Certainly you can- 
 not have had very much faith in Lord Manis- 
 ter's judgment ; but the case is altered if he 
 was to all intents and purposes engaged to a 
 girl in England ; and, at all events, that's the 
 worst that could be said of you — looking at it 
 from your own point of view. But is not the 
 girl out there entitled to a point of view as 
 well ? " And the hardened reckless eyes were 
 turned so suddenly upon Lady Dromard that 
 the youth and grace and bitterness of the girl 
 smote her straight to the heart. 
 
 There was a slight tremor and great ten- 
 derness in the voice that whispered, " Did she 
 feel it very much ? Come, come — don't tell 
 me it broke her heart ! " 
 
 " No, I won't tell you that," said the girl 
 briskly, but with a laugh which hurt. " That 
 doesn't break so easily in these days. No, it 
 didn't break her heart, Lady Dromard — it did
 
 2IO TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 much worse. It got her talked about. It 
 poisoned her mind, it killed her faith, it spoilt 
 her temper. It did all that — and one thing 
 worse still. Though it didn't break her heart. 
 Lady Dromard, it cracked it, so that it will 
 never ring true any more ; it made her hate 
 those she had loved — those who loved her ; it 
 made it impossible for her ever to care for 
 anybody in the whole wide world again ! " 
 
 Lady Dromard had drawn her chair nearer 
 to the girl, and nearer still. Lady Dromard 
 was no longer mistress of herself. 
 
 " Did it make her hate 7^2^ my dear ?" 
 
 " It made her loathe — me." 
 
 Lady Dromard was seen to battle with a 
 strong womanly impulse, and to lose. Her 
 fine eyes filled with tears. Her soft, white 
 hands flew out to Christina's, and drew them 
 to her bosom. At this moment a young man 
 in flannels appeared at the door, and the young 
 man was Lord Manister ; but the rich carpet 
 had muffled his tread, and the two women had 
 eyes for one another only — the girl he had 
 loved — the mother who had drawn him from 
 her. The same sunbeam washed them 
 both. 
 
 " Now I icnow her name — now I know it ! "
 
 ORDEAL BY BATTLE. 2II 
 
 " I think you cannot have found it out this 
 minute, Lady Dromard." 
 
 " But I have. I have never known whether 
 to believe it or not, since it first crossed my 
 mind, the night you dined here. You see, I 
 kno\v him so well ! But he didn't tell me, and 
 after all I had no reason to suppose it. Oh, 
 he has told me nothing — and you are the gulf 
 between us, for which I have only myself to 
 thank. Ah, if I had only dreamt — of you !" 
 
 Tiny suffered herself to be kissed upon the 
 cheek. 
 
 " Pray say no more, dear Lady Dromard," 
 she said quietly. "Shall I tell you why?" 
 she added, drawing back. " Why, because 
 it's quite a thing of the past." 
 
 " It is not a thing of the past," cried Lady 
 Dromard passionately. " He has never loved 
 anyone else. He bitterly regrets having lis- 
 tened to me, and I, now that I know you — I 
 bitterly regret everything ! And he loves 
 you . . . and I would rather . . . and I have 
 told him what is the simple truth — how I have 
 admired you from the first ! " 
 
 The last sentence was doubtless a mistake. 
 It was the only one that would let itself be 
 uttered, however, and before another could
 
 212 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 be added by either woman Lord Manister had 
 tramped into the room. They fell the further 
 apart as he came between them and stooped 
 down, laying his hands heavily on the little 
 table. His eyes sped from the girl to his 
 mother, and back to the girl, on whom they 
 stayed. One hand held his crumpled cap. 
 His hair was disordered. In many ways he 
 looked at his best, as Tiny had always said he 
 did in flannels. But never before had Tiny 
 seen him half so earnest and sad and hand- 
 some. 
 
 " My mother is right," he said firmly. " I 
 love you, and I ask you to forgive us both, 
 and to give me what I don't deserve — one 
 word of hope ! " 
 
 The young girl glanced from his grave, 
 humble face to that of his mother, through 
 whose tears a smile was breaking. Lady 
 Dromard's lips were parted, half in surprise 
 at the humility of her son's words, half in 
 eagerness for the answer to them. Tiny 
 Luttrell read her like a printed book, and rose 
 to her feet with a smile that was equally 
 unmistakable, for it was a smile of triumph.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 
 
 Now Herbert was taking part in the match, 
 and Ruth was in the ladies' tent, trying not to 
 think of Christina, who was playing a single- 
 wicket game in another place. But Erskine 
 Holland was rolling the rectory court gloomily 
 and quite alone, and he was tired of Essing- 
 ham. Not only had the day kept fine in spite 
 of its threats, but toward the end of the after- 
 noon it turned out very tine indeed, and the 
 light became excellent for lawn tennis, because 
 there was nobody to play with poor Erskine. 
 Even the good Willoughby was on the ac- 
 cursed field over yonder ; and he mattered 
 least. Ruth was there. Tiny was there. 
 Herbert was not only there, but playing for 
 Lord Manister, who was notoriously short of 
 men. One can hardly wonder at Erskine's 
 condemnation of his brother-in-law, out of his 
 own mouth, as a stultified young fraud in the 
 matter of Lord Manister. As to the girls, 
 
 213
 
 214 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 some old tenets of his concerning women in 
 general returned to taunt him for the ship- 
 wreck of his holiday at least; Yet Ruth had 
 but plotted for her sister's advancement, not 
 her own. Whether Cliristina cared in the 
 least for the man whom she evidently meant 
 to marry, if she could, was, after all, Chris- 
 tina's own affair. Erskine had only heard her 
 disparage him behind his back — at which Her- 
 bert himself could not beat her — whereas 
 Ruth had at least been openly in favor of the 
 fellow from the very first. But if Herbert 
 was a fraud, what was the name for Tiny? 
 Clearly the only trustworth}^ person of the 
 three was Ruth, who at least — yet alone — was 
 consistent. 
 
 To this conclusion, which was not without 
 its pleasing side, Erskine came with his eyes 
 on the ground he was rolling. But as he 
 pushed the roller toward the low stone wall 
 dividing the lawn from the churchyard, into 
 which the balls were too often hit, one came 
 whizzing out of it for a change, and struck the 
 roller under Erskine's nose. And leaning with 
 her elbows on the low wall, and her right hand 
 under her chin, as though itv/ere the last right 
 handthat could have flung that ball, stood the
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 215 
 
 girl for whom a bad enough name had yet to 
 be found. 
 
 "Where on earth did you spring from?" 
 Holland asked, a little brusquely, as he 
 stopped for a moment and then rolled on 
 toward the wall. 
 
 " If you mean the ball," replied Tiny, " it 
 must be the one we lost the last time we 
 played. I have just found it among the 
 graves, and it slipped out of my hand." 
 
 " I meant you," said Erskine, with an unsuc- 
 cessful smile ; and he pushed the roller close 
 up to the wall, and folded his arms upon the 
 handle. 
 
 " Oh, I have come from the hall by the 
 forbidden path over Callow Hill ; but it seems 
 that wasn't meant for us, and at any rate I 
 have leave to use it whenever I like." She 
 was puzzling him, and she knew it, but she 
 met his eyes with a mysterious smile for some 
 moments before adding : " You can't think 
 what a view there is from the top of the hill 
 — I mean a view of the hall. Just now the 
 sun was blazing in all the windows, like the 
 flash of a broadside from an old two-decker ; 
 you see it made such an impression on me 
 that I thought of that for your benefit."
 
 2l6 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Erskine acknowledged the benefit rather 
 heavily with a nod. 
 
 " What have you done with Ruth ? " 
 
 " To the best of my belief she is watching 
 the match ; at least she was an hour ago." 
 
 " Something has happened ! " exclaimed 
 Erskine Holland, starting upright and leaving 
 the roller handle swinging in the air like an 
 inverted pendulum. His eyes were uncon- 
 sciously stern ; those of the girl seemed to quail 
 before them. 
 
 " Something Jias happened," she admitted 
 to the top of the wall. " I suppose you would 
 get to know sooner or later, so I may as well 
 tell you myself now. The fact is Lord Man- 
 ister has just proposed to me." 
 
 Erskine dropped his eyes and shrugged 
 slightly ; then he raised them to the setting 
 sun, and tried to look resigned ; then, with a 
 noticeable effort, he brought them back to 
 her face, and forced a smile. 
 
 " I'm not surprised. I saw it coming, though 
 I hardly expected it so soon. Well, Tiny, I 
 congratulate you ! He is about the most 
 brilliant match in England." 
 
 "Quite the most, I thought?" 
 
 " And I am sure he is a first-rate fellow,"
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 2l^ 
 
 added Erskine with vigor, regretting that he 
 had not said this first, and dislikinof what he 
 had said. 
 
 " Oh, he is a very good sort," acknowledged 
 Tiny to the wall. 
 
 " So you ought to be the happiest young- 
 woman in the world, as you are perhaps the 
 luckiest — I mean in one sense. And I con- 
 gratulate you, Tiny, I do indeed !" 
 
 To clinch his congratulations he held out 
 his hand, from which she raised her eyes to 
 him at last — with the look of a cabman refus- 
 ing his proper fare. 
 
 " And I took you for the most discerning 
 person I knew ! " said Tiny very slowly. 
 
 " You don't mean to say " 
 
 His eagerness and incredulity arrested his 
 speech. 
 
 '' \ do mean to say." 
 
 " That you have — refused him ? " 
 
 Tiny nodded. " With thanks — not too 
 many." 
 
 They stared at one another for some mo- 
 ments longer. Then Erskine sat down on 
 the roller and folded his arms and looked ex- 
 tremely serious, though already the corners 
 of his mouth were beginning to twitch.
 
 2l8 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Now, you know, Tiny, I'm m loco parentis 
 as long as you're in England. In this one 
 matter you've no business to chaff me. Hon- 
 estly, now, is it the truth that Lord Manister 
 has asked you to marry him, and that you 
 have said him nay ? " 
 
 " It is the truest truth I ever uttered in my 
 life. I refused him point-blank," added Tiny, 
 with eyes once more lowered, as though the 
 memory were not unmixed with shame, *' and 
 before his own mother ! " 
 
 " In the presence of Lady Dromard?" 
 
 She nodded solemnly, but with a blush. 
 
 " Good Lord ! " murmured Erskine. " And 
 I was ass enough to think you were leading 
 him on ! " 
 
 She whispered, "And so I was." 
 
 For one moment Erskine stared at her more 
 seriously than ever ; then the reaction came, 
 and she saw him shaking. He shook until 
 the tears were in his eyes ; and when he was 
 rid of them he perceived the same thing in 
 Tiny's eyes, but obviously not from the same 
 cause. 
 
 " / don't think it's such a joke," said the 
 girl, in the voice of one pained when in pain 
 already. " I am pretty well ashamed of
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 219 
 
 myself, I can tell you. If you really consider 
 yourself responsible for me I think you might 
 let me tell you something about it ; for you 
 must tell Ruth — I daren't. But if you're going 
 to laugh ... let me tell you it's no laugh- 
 inof matter to me, now I've done it." 
 
 " Forgive me," said Holland instantly; "I 
 am a brute. Do tell me anything you care 
 to ; I promise not to laugh unless you do. 
 And I might be able to help you." 
 
 "■ Ah, you would if anybody could ; but 
 nobody can ; I have behaved just scandalously, 
 and I know it as well as you do, now that it's 
 too late. Yet I wish that you knew all about 
 it, Erskine ! " She looked at him wistfully. 
 "You understand thinofs so. Would it bore 
 you if I were to tell you how the whole thing 
 happened ?" 
 
 The oilt hands of the church clock made it 
 ten minutes to six when Erskine shook his 
 head and bent it attentively. When the hour 
 struck he had opened his mouth only once, to 
 answer her question as to how much he knew 
 of her affair with Lord Manister in Melbourne. 
 He had known for a dav and a half as much 
 as Ruth knew ; and he did not learn much 
 more now, for the girl could speak more freely
 
 220 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 of recent incidents, and dwelt principally on 
 those of that afternoon, beginning with Lady 
 Dromard's extraordinary attentiveness on the 
 cricket field. 
 
 " I felt there was something behind that, 
 though I didn't know what ; I could only be 
 sure that she had her eye on me. However, I 
 took a tremendous vow to face whatever came 
 without moving a muscle. I think I succeeded, 
 ofi the whole, but I was on the edge of a panic 
 when she took me upstairs. I wanted to 
 clear ! I had qualms ! " 
 
 She was startlingly candid on another point. 
 
 " I also made up my mind to behave as 
 prettily as possible, just to show her. I was 
 really pleased with the interest she seemed to 
 take in what I told her about the bush, and I 
 was quite delighted to see a galar again. But 
 I needn't have made the fuss I did in taking 
 it out of its cage ; that was purely put on, and 
 all the time I was mortally afraid that it would 
 peck me. Yet I suppose," added Tiny, after 
 some moments, " you w^on't believe me when 
 I tell you that I am ashamed of all that 
 already ? " 
 
 Erskine declared that there was nothinor in 
 
 o 
 
 the world to be ashamed of ; on the contrary,
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 221 
 
 in his opinion she was perfectly justified in all 
 she had done. With kind eyes upon her, he 
 added what he very nearly meant, that he was 
 proud of her ; and his remark wrought a change 
 in her expression which convinced him finally 
 that at least she was not proud of herself. 
 
 " Ah, you weren't there, Erskine," said 
 Christina sadly, her blue eyes clouded with 
 penitence ; " you don't know how kind poor 
 Lady Dromard was with all her dodges ! She 
 said it would be more comfortable to have tea 
 lip there. ComJortable was the last thing I 
 felt in my heart, but I never let her see that ; 
 and besides, I didn't as yet guess what was 
 coming. Even when she wanted me to tell 
 her my own name, I couldn't be sure that she 
 suspected me. I wasn't sure until she asked 
 me whether the girl had got over it, when I 
 knew from her voice. And I saw then that 
 she reallv rather liked me, and half wished it to 
 be ; and I was sorry because I liked her ; and 
 though I spoke my mind to her about her son, 
 I should have made a clean breast of every- 
 thing to her if he hadn't come in just then. I 
 should have told her straight that I didn't care 
 that for him — not now — and that I had been 
 fhrting with him disgracefully just to try to
 
 22 2 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 make him smart as I had smarted. That's the 
 whole truth of it, Erskine ; and I meant to tell 
 her so in another second, because I couldn't 
 stand her kissing me and crying, and all that. 
 I should have been crying myself next moment. 
 But just then he came in, and I remembered 
 everything. I remembered, too, what she had 
 had to do with it, on her own showing ; and 
 when I saw what she wanted me to say I think 
 I became possessed." 
 
 Her brother-in-law was very curious to know 
 all that Christina had said, but she would not 
 tell him. She merely remarked that he would 
 think all the worse, of her if he knew, even 
 though at the moment she could hardly 
 remember any one thing that she had said. 
 Then she paused, and recalled a little, and the 
 little made her b/ush. 
 
 " I didn't come well out of it," she declared. 
 
 Erskine threw discredit on her v/ord in this 
 particular matter ; he sniffed an extravagant 
 remorse. 
 
 " Talk of hitting a man when he's down ! " 
 exclaimed Tiny miserably. " I hit Lady 
 Dromard when the tears were in her 
 eyes, and Lord Manister when he was hitting 
 himself. He took it splendidly. He is a
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 223 
 
 gentleman. I don't care what else he is — lord 
 or no lord, he would always be a perfect 
 gentleman. What's more, I am very sorry for 
 im. 
 
 " Why on earth be sorry for him ? " asked 
 Erskine with a touch of irritation ; for when 
 Tiny spoke of Lady Dromard's tears, her 
 own eyes swam with them ; and to do a thing 
 like this and start crying over it the moment 
 it was done seemed to Erskine a bad sign. 
 The event was so very fresh, and so entirely 
 contrary to his own most recent apprehen- 
 sions, that at present his only feeling in the 
 matter was one of profound satisfaction. But 
 the symptoms she showed of relenting already 
 interfered not a little with that satisfaction, 
 while, even more than by the remark that 
 had prompted his question, he was alarmed 
 by her ansv/er to it : 
 
 " Because I believe he does care for me, a 
 little bit, in his own way — or he thinks he 
 does, which comes to the same thing ; and 
 because, when all's said and done, I have 
 treated him like a little fiend !" 
 
 "My good girl!" said Holland uneasily, 
 " I should remember how he treated you." 
 
 " Ah, no," answered Christina, shaking her
 
 2 24 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 head ; " I have remembered that far too long 
 as it is. That's ancient history." 
 
 " Well, be sorry for him if you like ; be 
 sorry for yourself as well." 
 
 That was the best advice that occurred to 
 him at the moment, but it set her off at a 
 tangent. 
 
 " I should think I am sorry for myself — I 
 should be sorry for any girl who could so far 
 forget herself ! " cried Christina, speaking bit- 
 terly and at a great pace. " Shall I tell you 
 the sort of thing I said ? When I told him I 
 could not possibly believe in his really caring 
 for me, after the way in which he left Mel- 
 bourne without so much as saying good-by to 
 me or sending me word that he was going, he 
 said it wasn't then he really loved me, but now. 
 So I told him I was sorry to hear it, as in my 
 case it might perhaps have been then, but 
 it certainly wasn't now. I actually said that ! 
 Then Lady Dromard spoke up. She had 
 been staring at me without a word, but she 
 spoke up now, and it served me right. I can't 
 blame her for being indignant, but she didn't 
 say half she could have said, and it was more 
 what she implied that sticks and stings. It 
 didn't sting then, though ; I was thinking of
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 22$ 
 
 all the talk out there. It was when Lord 
 Manister stopped her, and held out his hand 
 to me and said, ' Anyway you forgive me 
 now? 1 thought you /^<2^ forgiven me' — it 
 was then I began to tingle. I said I forgave 
 him, of course ; and then I bolted. But I 
 was sorry for him, and I am sorry for him, 
 whatever you say, for I had cut him to the 
 heart. . . And he looked most awfully nice 
 the v^diole time ! " 
 
 With these frivolous last words there came 
 a smile : the normal oirl shone out for an 
 instant, as the sun breaks through clouds ; 
 and Erskine took advantage of the gleam. 
 
 "To the heart of his vanity — that's w^here 
 you cut. You've humiliated him certainly ; 
 but surely he deserved it? In any case, 
 you've given young Manister the right-about ; 
 and upon my soul that's rather a performance 
 for our Tiny ! I should only like to have 
 seen it." 
 
 " It's good of you to call me your Tiny," 
 returned the young girl rather coldly. " But 
 don't talk to me about performances, please, 
 unless you mean disgraceful performances. I 
 wish I had never come to Enofland — I wish I 
 was back in Australia — I wish I was up at the
 
 2 26 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Station ! " she cried with sudden passion. " I 
 am miserable, and you won't understand me ; 
 and Ruth couldn't if she tried." 
 
 " My dear girl," Erskine said in rather an 
 injured tone, "surely you're a little unfair on 
 us both ? Ruth will understand when I tell 
 her; aad as for me — I think I understand you 
 already." 
 
 " Not you ! " answered Tiny disdainfully. 
 " You call it a performance ! You treat it as 
 a joke ! " And she left him, with the tears 
 in her eyes. 
 
 He watched her enter the garden by the 
 little gate lower down, and saunter toward 
 the house with lagging steps. The low sun 
 streamed upon her drooping figure. Even at 
 that distance, and with her face hidden from 
 him, she seemed to Erskine the incarnation of 
 all that was wayward and willful and sweet in 
 girlhood. And her tears and temper made 
 her doubly sweet, as the rain draws new fra- 
 grance from a flower ; but they had also made 
 her doubly difficult to understand. One mo- 
 ment he had seen her plainly, as in the lime 
 light ; in another, she had retired to a deeper 
 shade than before. The explanation of her 
 conduct toward Lord Manister had been a
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 227 
 
 sufficiently startling revelation, yet a perfectly 
 lucid one ; but what of this prompt transition 
 to tears and penitence ? The only interpreta- 
 tion which suggested itself to Erskine was one 
 that he refused to entertain. He preferred to 
 attribute Christina's present state of mind to 
 mere reaction ; if the reaction had taken a 
 rather hysterical form, that, perhaps, was not to 
 be wondered at. Moreover, this seemed to be 
 indeed the case ; for the girl was seen no more 
 that day, save by Ruth, who by night was per- 
 haps the most disappointed person in the 
 parish ; only she managed to conceal her dis- 
 appointment in a way that it was impossible 
 not to admire. 
 
 Nevertheless dinner at the rectory was a 
 dismal meal, and the more so for the high 
 spirits of Herbert, which, meeting with no 
 response, turned to silence. Poor Herbert 
 happened to have distinguished himself in the 
 match, which, indeed, he had been largely in- 
 strumental in winnino for his side ; but neither 
 Ruth nor her husband showed anv interest in 
 his exploit, and Tiny was not there. Erskine 
 was no cricketer ; Herbert hated him for it, 
 and made a sidlen attack on the claret. 
 But at length it dawned upon him that there
 
 2 28 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 was some special reason for the silence and 
 glum looks at either end of the table, for which 
 Christina's alleo^ed headache would not in 
 itself account ; and when Ruth left the table 
 early to look after Tiny, he said bluntly to 
 Erskine : 
 
 " You're enough to give a fellow the blues, 
 the pair of you! What's wrong? Have I 
 done anything, or has Tiny ?" 
 
 Erskine temporized, pushing forward the 
 claret. " I understand yon have done some- 
 thing," he said with a first approach to genial- 
 ity ; " but, upon my word, old fellow, I don't 
 knov/ what it is. I couldn't listen, for the life 
 of me ; and 3'ou must forgive me. Tiny's 
 upset, and that's upset Ruth, which I suppose 
 has upset me in my turn. Please call me 
 names — I deserve them — and then tell me 
 again what you have done." 
 
 Herbert did not require two invitations to 
 do this. He had not only acquitted himself 
 brilliantly, but there was a peculiar piquancy 
 in his success ; he had saved the side which 
 had treated him with unobtrusive but galling 
 contempt until the last moment, when he 
 opened their eyes, and their throats too. They 
 had put him to field at short leg ; during the
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 229 
 
 intervals, after the fall of a wicket, not one of 
 them had spoken a word to him, save good- 
 natured Mr. Willoughby ; and they had sent 
 him in last, with hopeless faces, when there 
 were many runs to get. The good batsmen, 
 beginning with Lord Manister, had mostly 
 failed miserably. The Honorable Stanley 
 Dromard, who had been in fine form all the 
 week, had alone done well ; and he was still 
 at the wicket when Herbert whipped in, 
 with his ears full of gratuitous instruc- 
 tions to keep his wicket up, and not to 
 try to hit the professional, and his 
 heart full of other designs. Those instruc- 
 tions were given without much knowledge of 
 this young Australian, who took a sincere de- 
 light in disregarding them. He had hit out 
 from the very first, particularly at the profes- 
 sional, who disliked being hit, and who was 
 also somewhat demoralized by the extreme 
 respect with which he had been treated by 
 preceding batsmen. There were thirty runs 
 to make when Herbert went in, and in a quar- 
 ter of an hour he made them nearly all from 
 his own bat, exhibitino- an almost insolent 
 amount of coolness and nerve at the crisis. 
 The best of it was that no one had considered
 
 230 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 it a crisis when he went in ; but his truculent 
 batting- had immediately made it one, and ulti- 
 mately, in a scene of the greatest excitement, 
 of which Herbert was tlie hero, an almost cer- 
 tain defeat had been converted into a glorious 
 victory. All this was confirmed by the local 
 newspaper next day ; considering his achieve- 
 ment and his character, the hero himself told 
 his tale with modesty. 
 
 " He bowled like beggary," he concluded, 
 in allusion to the discomfited professional ; 
 " but I tell you, old toucher, we were too 
 many measles for him ! " 
 
 *' They were more civil to you after that?" 
 
 "My oath!" said Herbert complacently. 
 " Those Eton jokers kicked up hell's delight ! 
 Stanley Dromard shook hands with me be- 
 tween the wickets, and said I ought to be 
 going up to Trinity ; but he's a real good 
 sportsman, with less side than you'd think. 
 His governor, the earl, congratulated me in 
 person — you bet I felt it down my marrow ! 
 He wants to know how it is I'm not playing 
 for the Australians. The only man v/ho 
 didn't say a word to me was that dam' fool 
 Manister." 
 
 " Ah, he was on the ground, then ? "
 
 HER HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 231 
 
 " He turned up as I went in ; and when I 
 came out he didn't look at me. Who the 
 blazes does he think he is? I'm as good a 
 man as him, though I'm a larrikin and he's a 
 twopenny lord. I don't care what he is, I had 
 the bulge over him to-day — he made four !" 
 
 *' Perhaps someone else has had the bulge 
 over him, too," suggested Erskine gently. 
 
 " Has someone ? " 
 
 Erskine nodded. 
 
 " Our Tiny ?" 
 
 " Yes ; he has asked her to marry him, and 
 she has refused him on the spot." 
 
 Herbert shot out of his chair. 
 
 " So're you crackin' ! I thought something 
 was wrong, man ? O Lord, this is a treat ! " 
 
 " It's a treat she didn't prepare one for. I 
 had visions of a very different upshot." 
 
 " Aha ! you never know where you have our 
 Tiny. No more does old Manister. Oh, but 
 this is a treat for the gods ! " 
 
 " I told Tiny it was a performance," Erskine 
 said reflectively ; " i*" struck me as one, and I 
 was trying to cheer her up — but that wasn't 
 the way." 
 
 " No ? She's a terror, our Tiny ! " murmured 
 Herbert, with a running chuckle. " Now I
 
 232 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 know why the brute was so civil to me the 
 first time I met him in these parts. Even then 
 my hand itched to fill his eye for him, but I 
 didn't say anything, because Tiny seemed on 
 the job herself. To think this was her game ! 
 I must go and shake hands with her. I must 
 go and tell her she's done better than filling 
 up his eye." 
 
 " Don't you," said Erskine quietly. " I 
 wouldn't say much to her afterward, either, if 
 I may give you a hint. She doesn't take quite 
 our view of this matter. Not that we can pre- 
 tend that ours is at all a nice view of it, mind 
 you ; only I really do regard it as a bit of a 
 performance on our Tiny's part, and ! should 
 like to have seen it." 
 
 " By ghost, so should I ! And seriously," 
 added Herbert, " he deserved all he's got. I 
 happen to know."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A CYCLE OF MOODS. 
 
 But the girl herself chose to think other- 
 wise. That was her perversity. She could 
 now see excuses for her own ill-treatment in 
 the past, but none for the revenge she had 
 just taken on the man who had treated her 
 badly. A revenge it had certainly been, plotted 
 systematically, and carried out from first to 
 last in sufficiently cold blood. But already 
 she was ashamed of it. So sincerely ashamed 
 was Christina, now that she had completed 
 her retaliation and secured her triumph, that 
 she very much exaggerated the e^'il she had 
 done, and could imagine no baser behavior 
 than her own. She had, indeed, felt the 
 baseness of it while yet there was time to 
 draw back, but the memory of her own 
 humiliation had been her goad whenever she 
 hesitated ; and then the way had been made 
 irresistibly easy for her. But this was no 
 
 comfort to her now. Neither was that goad 
 
 333
 
 234 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 any excuse to her self-accusing- mind ; for she 
 could feel it no longer, which made her wonder 
 how she had ever felt it at all. Her iud^nient 
 was obscured by the magnitude of her mean- 
 ness in her own eyes. The revulsion of feeling 
 was as complete as it was startling and dis- 
 tressing to herself. 
 
 In her trouble and excitement that night it 
 became necessary for her to speak to some- 
 one, and she spoke with unusual freedom to 
 Ruth, who displayed on this occasion, among 
 others, a really lamentable want of tact. Tiny 
 sought to explain her trouble : it was not that 
 she could possibly care for Lord Manister 
 again, or dream of marrying him under any 
 circumstances (Ruth said nothing to all this), 
 but that she half believed he really cared for 
 her (Ruth was sure of it), in his own way 
 (Ruth seemed to believe in his way) ; and in 
 any case she was very sorry for him. So was 
 Ruth, In all the circumstances the sorrow 
 of Ruth miorht well have received a less frank 
 expression than she thought fit to give it. 
 
 But it is only fair to say that this did not 
 occur to Ruth. She was in and out of the 
 room until at last Christina was asleep, and 
 dreaming of the hall windows ablaze against
 
 A CYCLE OF MOODS. 235 
 
 the sunset, while again and again in her sleep 
 the warm, broken voice of Lady Dromard 
 turned hard and cold. Ruth watched her 
 affectionately enough as she slept, and con- 
 soled herself for her own disappointment by 
 tlie reflection that at least they understood 
 one another now. Therefore it v/as a rude 
 shock to her when Christina came down next 
 dav and would hardly look at any of them. 
 
 Her mood had chano^ed ; it was now her 
 worst. She was pale still, but her expression 
 was set, and there was a quarrelsome glitter 
 in her eyes ; the fact being that she was a 
 little tired of chastising herself, and exceed- 
 incrly ready to begin on some second person. 
 So Erskine himself was badly snubbed at his 
 own breakfast table, and v/hen Tiny after- 
 ward took herself into the kitchen garden 
 Ruth followed her for an explanation, in the 
 fullness of her confidence that they understood 
 one another at last. No explanation was 
 given, Tiny merely remarking that she was 
 sorry if she had been rude, but that she was 
 in an evil state all through, and unfit for 
 human society. To Ruth, however, this only 
 meant that Tiny was unfit to be alone. So 
 Ruth remained in the kitchen garden too, and
 
 236 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 was good enough to resume gratuitously her 
 consolations of the night before. But in a 
 very few minutes she returned, complaining, 
 to her husband. 
 
 "My dear," said he at once, "you oughtn't 
 to have gone near her. Above all, you 
 shouldn't have broached the subject of her 
 affairs ; you should have left that to her. She 
 seems considerably ashamed of herself, and 
 though I must say I think that's absurd, you 
 can't help liking her the better for it. She 
 surprised us all, but she surprised herself too, 
 because she has found that she can't strike a 
 blow without hurting herself at least as badly 
 as anybody else ; and that shows the good in 
 her. Personally, I think the blow was justi- 
 fied ; but that has nothing to do with it. The 
 point is that if she's mortified about the whole 
 concern, as is obviously the case, it must 
 increase her mortification to know that we 
 know all about it, and that she herself has 
 told us. Which applies more to me than to 
 you. It was natural she should tell you ; she 
 only told me because I happened to be the 
 first person she saw, and I can qui.te under- 
 stand her hating me by this time for listening. 
 We must ignore the whole matter except
 
 A CYCLE OF MOODS. 237 
 
 when it pleases her to bring it up, and then 
 we must let her make the runnine." 
 
 " I hate people to require so much humor- 
 ing ! " exclaimed Ruth, with some reason. 
 
 "Well, I must say I'm glad that jf^^^ don't," 
 her husband said prettily. " As to Tiny, 
 her faults are very sweet, and her moods are 
 really interesting— but I'm thankful they don't 
 run in the family ! " 
 
 He seemed thankful. 
 
 "Yet you're a wonderful man for under- 
 standing other people," returned Ruth as 
 prettily ; and her eyes were full of admiration. 
 
 "Ah, well! Tiny's not like other people. 
 I think she must enjoy startling one. Our 
 best plan is to expect the unexpected of her 
 from this time forth, and to let her be until 
 she comes to herself." 
 
 And that came to pass quite in good time. 
 Having effaced herself all the morning and 
 again during the afternoon, and having been 
 grotesquely polite to the others (when it was 
 necessary to speak to them) at midday dinner. 
 Tiny appeared at tea in another frock and fl}'- 
 ing signals of peace. She seemed anxious to 
 acquiesce with things that were said. So 
 Erskine forced jokes which were sufficiently
 
 238 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 terrible in themselves, but they served a good 
 purpose very well. Christina recovered her 
 old form, and after tea made a winsome 
 assault upon no less redoubtable a defender 
 of his own inclinations than her brother Her- 
 bert. Him she successfully importuned to 
 take her to church in the evening, although 
 not to the church close at hand, where there 
 was never, necessarily, any service in the 
 rector's absence. Tiny, however, had heard 
 from her friends in the village of a gifted 
 young Irishman who wore a stole and held 
 forth extempore in a neighboring parish ; they 
 found their way to it across the twilight fields. 
 They did not return till after nine, when Chris- 
 tina seemed much briorhter than before. Her 
 brightness, however, was seemingly more 
 grateful to Mr. than to Mrs. Holland, who 
 enticed her brother into the oarden after 
 supper, to ask him whether Tiny had not 
 mentioned Lord Manister. 
 
 " Wh}^, yes, she did just mention him," said 
 Herbert ; " but that's all. I wasn't going to 
 say a word about the joker, and just as we 
 came back to the drive here she got a hold of 
 my arm and thanked me for not having asked 
 her any questions ; so I was glad I hadn't.
 
 A CYCLE OF MOODS. 239 
 
 She said she wasn't by any means proud of 
 herself, and that she wanted to forget the 
 whole thing, if we'd only let her. She doesn't 
 want to be bothered about it by anybody. 
 Those were her very words, as we came up 
 the drive. She was jolly enough all the way 
 there, talking mostly about Wallandoon. 
 You'll have noticed how keen she is on the 
 station ever since she went up there with the 
 governor last April ; I think the old place was 
 a treat to her after Melbourne, to tell you the 
 truth." 
 
 Ruth nodded, as much as to say that she 
 knew. She asked, however, whether Tiny had 
 t?.lked also of Wallandoon on the way 
 home. ■ 
 
 " No ; she was a bit quiet on the way home. 
 I think the sermon must have made an im- 
 pression on her, but I didn't hear it myself ; 
 I put in a sleep instead. In the hymns, though, 
 she sang out immense — by ghost, as if she 
 meant it ! I rather wished I'd heard the 
 sermon," remarked Herbert thoughtfully, 
 "because it seemed to set her thinking. 
 I believe she's given to thinking of those 
 things now and then ; I shouldn't be surprised 
 to see her go religious some day, if she don't
 
 240 TINY LUTTRELL 
 
 marry; I'd rather she did, too, than marry 
 a thing Hke Manister ! " 
 
 The next day was their last at Essingham, 
 for which not even Ruth could grieve, in view 
 of recent events. The day, however, was its 
 own consolation ; it was cold and dull and 
 damp, though not actually wet, so that 
 Erskine, who spent the greater part of the 
 morning in front of a barometer, had hopes 
 of some final sets in the afternoon, when the 
 Willoughbys were coming to say good-by. 
 Nor was he disappointed when the time 
 arrived, though the court was dead and the 
 light bad ; his own service was the more tell- 
 ing under these conditions. But to the two 
 girls, who had been brought up to better 
 things, it was a repulsive day from all points 
 of view, and they were very glad to spend th^ 
 morning in packing up before a hearty fire. 
 
 "This is the kind of thincj that makes one 
 sigh for Wallandoon," Tiny happened to say 
 once as she stood looking out of the window 
 at gray sky and sullied trees. The thought 
 was spoken just as it came into her head with 
 an imaginary beam of bush sunshine. There 
 was no other thought behind it — no human 
 mote in that sunbeam certainly. But Ruth
 
 A CYCLE OF MOODS. 241 
 
 had raised her head swiftly from the trunk 
 over which she was bending, and she knelt 
 gazing at her sister's back as a dog pricks its 
 ears. 
 
 "Why Wallandoon? Why not Mel- 
 bourne ? " 
 
 " Because I have had enough of Melbourne," 
 replied Christina quietly, and without turning 
 round. 
 
 " I thought you took so kindly to it ?" 
 
 " Perhaps I did ; I have taken kindly to 
 many things that were bad for me in my time. 
 And that's all the more reason why I should 
 hanker after Wallandoon. I only wish we 
 could all go back there to live ! " 
 
 " Well, I must say I shouldn't care to live 
 there now," remarked Ruth, with a little laugh ; 
 " and I don't see how you could like it either, 
 after civilization." 
 
 " Ah, that's because you never cared for the 
 station as I did," replied Christina, with her 
 back still turned ; " you liked the veranda 
 better than the run, and you hated the dust 
 from the sheep when you were riding. I can 
 smell it now! Just think: they'll be in the 
 middle of shearing by this time. They were 
 going to have thirty-six shearers on the board,
 
 242 TINY LUTTRELl, 
 
 and they expected the best clip they've had 
 for years. Can't you hear the blades clicking 
 and the tar boys tearing down the board, and 
 the bales being heaved about at the back of 
 the shed — or see the fleeces thrown out on the 
 table and rolled up and bounced into the bins 
 — and father drafting in a cloud of dust at the 
 yards ? Can't I ! Many's the time I've 
 brought him a mob of woollies myself. And 
 how good the pannikin of tea was, and the 
 shearer's bun ! I can taste 'em now. You 
 never cared for tea in a pannikin. Yet per- 
 haps if you'd ever gone back to see the place 
 since we left it, as I did, you might be as keen 
 on it as I am. I own I wasn't so keen when 
 we lived there. When I went back and saw it 
 the other day, though, I thought it the best 
 place in the world; and you would, too." 
 
 "Is Jack Swift managing it now?" Ruth 
 asked indifferently. 
 • "You knew he was." 
 
 " Really I'm afraid I don't know much about 
 it ; but if you're so fond of the place as all that. 
 Tiny, I should just marry Jack Swift, and live 
 there ever after." 
 
 " I suppose you're joking," said the young 
 girl rather scornfully ; " but in case you aren't
 
 A CYCLE OF MOODS. 243 
 
 perhaps it will relieve you to hear that, if ever 
 I do marry, I shall marry a man — not a 
 place." 
 
 And she turned round and stared hard 
 through another window, which commanded a 
 view of the Mundham gates and grounds ; and 
 Ruth made no more jokes ; but neither, on the 
 other hand, did Tiny expatiate any further on 
 the attractions of station life at Wallan- 
 doon. 
 
 The Willoughbys came in the afternoon, 
 when Mrs. Willoughby was severely disap- 
 pointed, owing to the rudeness of Christina, 
 who had disappeared mysteriously, although 
 she knew that these people were coming. 
 Mrs. Willoughby had seen her last leaving the 
 cricket ground at Mundham under the wing of 
 Lady Dromard — Mrs. Willoughby had looked 
 forward immensely to seeing her again. But 
 Christina had gone out, and none knew whither ; 
 the visitor's idea was some private engagement 
 at the hall ; and this was not the only idea 
 she expressed, a little too freely for the entire 
 ease of Christina's sister. Happily they 
 were only ideas. Mrs. Willoughby knew 
 nothing. 
 
 Tiny, as it turned out later, had spent the
 
 244 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 whole afternoon in the village, saying good-by 
 to her friends there. Ruth found this rather 
 difificult to believe, as she had heard so little 
 of the friends in question. Nevertheless it 
 was strictly true, and Tiny had taken tea with 
 Mrs. Clapperton, whose tears she had kissed 
 away when they said good-by ; but that was 
 only the end of a scene which would have 
 been a revelation to some who prided them- 
 selves on knowing their Tiny as well as any- 
 one could know so unaccountable a person. 
 At dinner that evening she seemed chastened 
 and subdued, yet her temper, certainly, had 
 never been sweeter. It was noticeable that, 
 while she had a responsive smile for most 
 things that were said, she made fun of nothing 
 herself ; and she was far too fond of making 
 fun of everything. But for two whole days 
 her moods had come and gone like the shad- 
 ows of the clouds when sun and wind are 
 strong together ; and the last of her whims 
 was not the least puzzling at the time. Later 
 Ruth read it to her own extreme satisfaction ; 
 but at the time it did seem odd to her that 
 anyone should desire a walk on so chilly and 
 unattractive a night. Yet when they had left 
 the men to themselves this was what Tiny
 
 A CYCLE OF MOODS. 245 
 
 said she would like above all things. And 
 Ruth, who humored her, had her reward. 
 
 For she found herself being led through 
 the churchyard ; and when she hesitated as 
 they came to the notice to trespassers, Tiny 
 muttered in a dare-devil way : 
 
 " Lady Dromard gave me leave to come 
 this way whenever I liked, and I mean to 
 make use of my privilege while I can. I want 
 to see the hall once aoain — it has a sort of 
 fascination for me ! " 
 
 More amazed than before, Ruth followed 
 her leader up the western slope of Gallow 
 Hill. The night was so dark that they heard 
 the rustle of the beeches on top before they 
 could discern their branches against the sky ; 
 and standing under them presently, panting 
 from their climb, they gazed down upon a 
 double row of warm lig-hts embedded in black- 
 ness. These were the hall windows, in even 
 tier, with here and there one missing, like the 
 broken teeth of a comb. Outline the building 
 had none ; only the windows were bitten upon 
 a sable canvas in ruddy orange and glimmering 
 yellow, from which there was just enough re- 
 flection on the lawn and shrubs to chain them 
 to earth in the mind of one who watched.
 
 246 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Only the windows," murmured Tiny 
 musingly. " Those windows mean to haunt 
 me for the rest of my lime." 
 
 " I wish it were moonlight," Ruth said. " I 
 wish we could see everything." 
 
 " No, I like it best as it is," remarked Tiny, 
 after further meditation. " It leaves some- 
 thing to your imagination. Those windows 
 are going to leave my imagination uncom- 
 monly well off ! " 
 
 They stood together in silence, and the 
 beeches talked in whispers above them. 
 When Ruth spoke next she whispered too, as 
 though they were just outside those lighted 
 windows : 
 
 " Yet you would rather live at Wallandoon 
 than anywhere else on earth !" 
 
 Tiny said nothing to that ; but after it, at a 
 distance, there came a sigh. 
 
 " What's the matter, Ruth ?" 
 
 " I'd rather not tell you, dear ; it might 
 make you angry." 
 
 " I think I like being made angry just at 
 present," said Christina, with a little laugh ; 
 "but you've spiked my guns by saying that 
 first ; you are quite safe, my dear." 
 
 "Then I was thinking — I couldn't help
 
 A CYCLE OF MOODS. ' 247 
 
 thinking— that one day you might have been 
 
 mistress -" 
 
 " Of the windows ? Then it's high time we 
 turned our backs on them ! That's just what 
 I was thinking myself 1"
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE INVISIBLE IDEAL. 
 
 On the flags of a London square, some days 
 later, Ruth repeated the sigh that had suc- 
 ceeded on Gallow Hill, and once more Chris- 
 tina asked her what was the matter. 
 
 " I was thinking," said Ruth with a confi- 
 dence born of the former occasion, " that one 
 day all this, too, would have been more or less 
 yours." 
 
 "All what, pray?" 
 
 " Every brick and slate that you can see ! 
 All this is part of the Dromard estate ; they 
 own every inch hereabouts." 
 
 Christina's next remark was a perfectly 
 pleasant one in itself, only it referred to a 
 totally different matter. And thus she treated 
 poor Ruth. At other times she would herself 
 rush into the subject without warning, and out 
 of it the moment it wearied or annoyed her; 
 to follow her closely in and out required a 
 
 nimble tact indeed. Nor was it easy to know 
 
 248
 
 THE INVISIBLE IDEAL, 249 
 
 always the right thing to say, or at all delight- 
 ful to feel that the right thing to-day might be 
 the wrong thing to-morrow. But into this one 
 subject Ruth was as ready to enter at a hint 
 from Tiny as she was now contented to quit 
 it at her caprice. The elder sister's patience 
 and good temper were alike wonderful, but 
 still more wonderful was her faith. Instinct- 
 ively she felt that all was not over between 
 Tiny and Lord Manister, and like many people 
 who do not pretend to be clever^ and are fond 
 of saying so, she believed immensely in her 
 instincts. It must not, however, be forgotten 
 that her wishes for Tiny were the very best 
 she could conceive ; and it should be remem- 
 bered that she had nobody but Tiny to watch 
 over and care for, to think about and make 
 plans for, during the long days when Erskine 
 was in the City. This was the great excuse 
 for Ruth, which never occurred to her hus- 
 band, and was unknown even to herself. 
 Christina was her baby, and a very trouble- 
 some, bad baby it was. 
 
 But what could you expect ? The girl was 
 sufficiently worried and unsettled ; she was 
 suffering from those upsetting fluctuations of 
 mind which few of her kind entirely escape,
 
 250 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 but which are violent in characters that have 
 grown with the emotional side to the sun and 
 the intellectual side to the wall. In such a 
 case the mind remains hard and green, while 
 the emotions ripen earlier than need be ; and 
 the fault is the gardener's, and the gardener is 
 the girl's mother. Now Mrs. Luttrell was a 
 soulless but ladylike nonentity, with an eye 
 naturally blind to the soul in her girls. All 
 she herself had taught them was an unaffected 
 manner and the necessity of becoming mar- 
 ried. So Ruth had married both early and 
 we]l by the favor of the gods, and Christina 
 had restored the average by committing more 
 follies of all sizes than would appear possible 
 in the time. That in which Lord Manister 
 was concerned had doubtless been the most 
 important of the series, but its sting lay greatly 
 in its notoriety. It had caused a light-hearted 
 girl to see herself suddenly in the pupils of 
 many eyes, and to recoil in shame from her 
 own littleness. It had made her hate both 
 herself and the owners of all those eyes, but 
 men especially, of whom she had seen far too 
 much in a short space of time. What she had 
 done in England only heightened her poor 
 opinion of herself now that it was done. She
 
 THE INVISIBLE IDEAL. 25 1 
 
 had seen her way to an incredibly sweet 
 revenge, only to find it incredibly bitter. In 
 strikinof hard she had hurt herself most, as 
 Erskine had divined ; instead of satisfying her 
 naturally vindictive feeling toward Lord Man- 
 ister that blow had killed it. Now she for- 
 gave him freely, but found it impossible to 
 forgive herself ; and so the generosity that 
 was in a disordered heart asserted itself, 
 because she had omitted to allow for it, not 
 knowing it was there. Worse things asserted 
 themselves too, such as the very solid attrac- 
 tions of the position which might have been 
 hers ; to these she could not help being fully 
 alive, though this was one more reason why 
 she hated herself. Her first judgment on her- 
 self, if a mere reaction at the beginning, 
 became ratified and hardened as time went on. 
 She became what she had never been before, 
 even when notoriety had made her reckless — 
 an introspective girl. And that made her 
 twisty and queer and unaccountable ; for, to 
 be introspective with equanimity, you must 
 have a bluff belief in yourself, which is not 
 necessarily conceit, but Tiny was not blessed 
 with it. 
 
 " She has lost her sense of fun — that's the
 
 252 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 worst part of the whole business !" exclaimed 
 Erskine, one night when Christina had gone 
 early to bed, as she always would now. " She 
 has ceased to be amusing or easily amused. 
 The empty town is boring her to the bone, 
 and if I don't fix up our Lisbon trip we shall 
 have her wanting to go back to Australia. 
 However, I am bound to be in Lisbon by the 
 end of next month, and I'm keener than ever 
 on having you two with me, I know the 
 ropes out there, and I could promise you both 
 a good time — but that depends on Tiny. Let 
 us hope the bay will blow the cobwebs out of 
 her head ; she wasn't made to be sentimental. 
 I only wish I could get her to jeer at things 
 as she used before we went to Essingham and 
 while we were there ! " 
 
 " Don't you think it's rather a good thing 
 she has dropped that?" Ruth asked. ''She 
 had no respect for anything in those days." 
 
 " And her humor saved her ! Pray what 
 does she respect now?" 
 
 " Two or three people that I know of — my 
 lord and master for one, and another person 
 who is only a lord." 
 
 " Look here, Ruth, I don't believe it," cried 
 Erskine, who by this time was pacing his study
 
 THE INVISIBLE IDEAL. 253 
 
 floor. " Why, she hasn't set eyes on him 
 since the day she refused him — with varia- 
 tions. 
 
 " I know — but she's had time to reflect." 
 
 " Then I hope and pray she may never have 
 the opportunity to recant !" 
 
 " Well, I won't deny that I hope differ- 
 ently," replied Ruth quietly ; " but I've no 
 reason to suppose there's any chance of it ; 
 and whatever happens, Erskine, you needn't 
 be afraid of my — of my meddling any more." 
 
 " My dear girl, I know that," said he cor- 
 dially enough ; " but of course you tell her 
 you're sorry for this, and you wish that. It's 
 only natural that you should." 
 
 " Ah, I daren't say as much to her as you 
 think," said Ruth, with a nod and a smile, for 
 she was glad to know more than he did, here 
 and there. " You needn't be afraid of me ; I 
 have little enouo-h influence over her. She 
 has only once opened her heart to me — once, 
 and that's all." 
 
 Which was perfectly true, at the time. 
 
 But a few days later the restless girl was 
 seized with a sudden desire to spend her 
 money (which is really a good thing to do 
 when you are troubled, if, like Christina, you
 
 254 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 have the money to spend), and as her most 
 irregular desires were sure to be gratified by 
 Ruth when they were not quite impossible, this 
 whim was immediately indulged. It was rather 
 late in the afternoon, but, on the other hand, 
 the afternoon was extremely fine ; and it was 
 a Thursday, when men stay late in Lombard 
 Street on. account of next day's outward mails. 
 Consequently there was no occasion for hurry ; 
 and so fascinated was Christina with the attrac- 
 tions and temptations of several well-known 
 establishments, and last, as well as most of 
 all, with those of the stores, that it was golden 
 evening before they breathed again the com- 
 paratively fresh air of Victoria Street. It was 
 like Christina to wish, at that hour, to walk 
 home, and " through as many parks as possi- 
 ble " ; it was even more like her to be extrava- 
 gantly delighted with the first of these, and to 
 insist on "shouting" Ruth a penny chair over- 
 looking the ornamental water in St. James' 
 Park. 
 
 Glad as she was to meet her sister's wishes, 
 when she would only express them, which she 
 was doinof with inconvenient freedom this 
 afternoon, Ruth did take exception to the 
 penny chairs. Her feeling was that for the
 
 THE INVISIBLE IDEAL. 255 
 
 two of them to sit clo\Yn solemnly on two of 
 those chairs was not an entirely nice thing to 
 do, and certainly not a thing that she would 
 care to be seen doing. Knowing, however, 
 that this w^ould be no argument with Tiny, she 
 merely said that it would make them too late 
 in getting home ; and that happened to be 
 worse than none, 
 
 " Erskine said he wouldn't be home till 
 eight o'clock ; and he told us not to dress, as 
 plain as he could speak," Tiny reminded her. 
 " The other parks won't beat this ; and you 
 shall not be late, because I'll shout a hansom, 
 too. 
 
 So Ruth made no more objections, though 
 she felt a sufficient number ; and they sat 
 down with their eyes toward the pale traces of 
 a gentle, undemonstrative September sunset, 
 and were silent. Already the lamps were 
 lighted in the Mall, where the trees were 
 tanned and tattered by the change and fall of 
 the leaf ; at each end of the bridge, too, the 
 lamps were lighted, and reflected below in pal- 
 pitating pillars of fire ; and every moment all 
 the lights burnt brighter. Eastward a bluish 
 haze mellowed trees and ciiimneys, making 
 them seem more distant than they w^ere ; the
 
 256 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 noise of the traffic seemed more distant still, 
 but it floated inward from the four corners, 
 like the breaking of waves upon an islet ; and 
 here in the midst of it the stillness was strange, 
 and certainly charming; only Tiny was 
 immoderately charmed. She sat so long with- 
 out speaking that Ruth leant back and watched 
 her curiously. Her face was raised to the 
 pale pink sky, with wide-opened eyes and 
 tight-shut lips, as though the desires of her 
 soul were written out in the tinted haze, as 
 you may scratch with your finger in the bloom 
 of a plum. She never spoke until the next 
 quarter rang out from Westminster and was 
 lingering in the quiet air, when she said, 
 " Why have we never done this before, 
 Ruth ? " 
 
 « "Well," answered Ruth, "I never did it 
 myself before to-day ; and I must own I think 
 it's rather an odd thing to do." 
 
 " Ah, well, heaven may be odd — I hope 
 It IS ! 
 
 Ruth began to laugh. " My dear Tiny, you 
 don't mean to say you call this heavenly ? " 
 
 " It's near enough," said the young girl. 
 
 " But, my dear child, what stuff ! The 
 couples keep it sufficiently earthly, I should
 
 THE INVISIBLE IDEAL. 257 
 
 say— and the smell of bad tobacco, and that 
 child's trumpet, and the midges and gnats — 
 but principally ' Arry and 'Arriet" 
 
 " Now I just like to see them," said Chris- 
 tina, for once the serious person of the two, 
 " they're so awfully happy." 
 
 " Awfully, indeed ! " cried Ruth, with a 
 superior little laugh. " Very vulgarly happy, 
 I should say!" And Tiny did not immedi- 
 ately reply, but her eyes had fallen as far as 
 the fretwork of the shabby foliage in the 
 Mall, over which the sky still glowed ; and 
 when she spoke her words were the words of 
 youthful speculation. She seemed, indeed, 
 to be thinking aloud, and not at all sure of the 
 sense of her thoughts. 
 
 " Very vulgarly happy ! " she repeated, so 
 long after the words had been spoken that it 
 took Ruth some moments to recall them. 
 " I am trying to decide whether there isn't 
 something rather vulgar about all happiness 
 of that kind — from the highest to the lowest. 
 Forgive me, dear — I don't mean anything the 
 least bit personal — I find I don't mean a word 
 I've said ! I wasn't thinking of the happiness 
 itself so much, but of the desire for it. Oh, 
 there must be something better for a girl to
 
 258 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 long for ! There is something, if one only 
 knew what it was ; but nobody has ever shown 
 me, for instance. Still there must be some- 
 thing between misery and marriage — some- 
 thing higher." 
 
 Her eyes had not fallen, but they shone 
 with tears. 
 
 " I don't know anything higher than marry- 
 ing the man, you love," said Ruth honestly. 
 
 '' Ah, if you love him ! There is no need 
 {or yoit to know a higher happiness, even if 
 one were possible in your case. But look at 
 me!" 
 
 ''You 'must marry, too," said Ruth with 
 facility. 
 
 " As I probably shall ; but to be happy, as 
 you are happy, one ought to be fond of the 
 person first, as you were ; and — well, I don't 
 think I have ever in my life felt as you felt." 
 
 " Stuff!" said Ruth, but with as much ten- 
 derness as the word would carry. 
 
 " I wish it were," returned Christina sadly ; 
 " it's the shameful truth. I have been going 
 over things lately, and that's never a very 
 cheerful employment in my case, but I think 
 it has taught me my own heart this time. 
 And I know now that I have never cared for
 
 THE INVISIBLE IDEAL. 259 
 
 anyone so much as for myself — much less for 
 Lord Manister ! If I had ever really cared 
 for him I couldn't have treated him as I have 
 done — no, not if he had behaved fifty times 
 worse in the beginning. I was flattered by 
 him, but I think I liked him, though I know I 
 was dazzled by — the different things. I would 
 have married him ; I never loved him — nor 
 any of the others ! " 
 
 " Ah, well, Tiny, I am quite sure he loves 
 you." 
 
 " Not very deeply, I hope ; I can't alto- 
 gether believe in him, and I don't much want 
 to. It is bad enough to have one of them in 
 deadly earnest," added Christina after a pause, 
 but with a laugh. 
 
 "Is one of them — I mean another one?" 
 asked Ruth, correcting herself quickly. 
 
 Tiny nodded. She would not say who it 
 was. " I don't care for him either — not 
 enough," she, however, vouchsafed. 
 
 " Then you don't think of marrying him, 
 I hope ?" 
 
 " No, not the man I mean " — she shook her 
 head sadly at trees and sky — " I like him too 
 much to marry him unless I loved him. Only 
 if anyone else asked me — someone I didn't
 
 26o TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 perhaps care a scrap for — I don't know what 
 mightn't happen. I feel so reckless some- 
 times, and so sick of everything ! This comes 
 of having played at it so often that one is 
 incapable of the real thing; more than all, it 
 comes of growing up with no higher ideal than 
 a happy marriage. And there must be some- 
 thing so much nobler — if one only knew 
 what !" 
 
 Very wistfully her eyes wandered over the 
 fading sky. The thin, floating clouds, fast 
 disappearing in the darkness, were not less 
 vague than her desires, and not more lofty. 
 Her soul was tugging at a chain that had been 
 too seldom taut. 
 
 " I know of nothing — unless you're a blue- 
 stocking," suggested poor Ruth, " or go in for 
 Woman's Rights !" 
 
 Then the sights and sounds of the place 
 came suddenly home to Christina, and her 
 eyes fell. A child rattled by with an iron 
 hoop. A pleasure boat, villainously rowed, 
 passed with hoarse shouts through the pillar 
 of fire below the bridore and left it writhino-. 
 Her eyes as she lowered them were greeted 
 with the smarting smoke of a cigar, and her 
 nostrils with the smell that priced it. The
 
 THE INVISIBLE IDEAL. 261 
 
 smoker took a neighboring chair, or rather 
 two, for he was not without his companion. 
 
 Christina was the first to rise. 
 
 " I have been talking utter nonsense to you, 
 Ruth," she whispered as they walked away ; 
 " but it was kind of you to let me go on and 
 on. One has sometimes to say a lot more 
 than one means to get out a little that one 
 does mean ; you must try to separate the little 
 from the lot. I've been talking on tiptoe — it 
 was good of you not to push me over ! " 
 
 They crossed the bridge, throbbing beneath 
 the tread of many feet ; in the Mall, under 
 the half-clothed trees, they hailed a hansom, 
 and Ruth orreeted her reflection in the side 
 mirror with a sifjh of relief. 
 
 " We should never have done this if we 
 hadn't been Australians," she remarked, as 
 though exceedingly ashamed of what they had 
 done, as indeed she was. 
 
 " Then that's one more good reason for 
 thankingr Heaven we are Australians!" 
 answered Tin)-, with some of her old spirit. 
 " You may think differently, Ruth, but for my 
 part that's the one point on which I have still 
 some lingering shreds of pride." 
 
 And that was how Tiny Luttrell opened her
 
 262 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 heart a second time to Ruth, her sister, who 
 was of less comfort to her even than before, 
 because now her open heart was also the cradle 
 of a wakinor soul. More thino^s than one need 
 
 o o 
 
 name, for they must be obvious, had of late 
 worked together toward this av/akening, until 
 now the soul tossed and struggled v/ithin a 
 frivolous heart, and its cries were imperious, 
 though ever inarticulate. To Ruth they were 
 but faint echoes of the unintelligible ; scarce 
 hearing, she was contented not to try to under- 
 stand. When Tiny said she had been " talk- 
 ing on tiptoe," to Ruth's mind that merely 
 expressed a queer mood queerly. She did 
 not see how accurately it figured the young soul 
 straining upward ; indeed the accuracy was un- 
 conscious, and Christina herself did not see this. 
 Queer as it may have been, her mood had 
 made for nobility, and was, therefore, memo- 
 rable among the follies and worse of which, 
 unhappily, she was still in the thick. It passed 
 from her not to return, yet to lodge, perhaps, 
 where all that is good in our lives and hearts 
 must surely gather and remain until the spirit 
 itself goes to complete and to inhabit a new 
 temple, and we stand built afresh in the better 
 image of God.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 
 
 There is in Cintra a good specimen of the 
 purely Portuguese hotel, which is worth a trial 
 if you can speak the language of the country 
 and eat its meats ; if you want to feel as much 
 abroad as you are, this is the spot to promote 
 that sensation. The whole concern is engag- 
 ingly indigenous. They will give you a dinner 
 of which every course (there must be nearly 
 twenty) has the twofold charm of novelty and 
 mystery combined ; and you shall dine in a 
 room where it is safe, if unsportsmanlike, to 
 criticise aloud your fellow-diners, when their 
 wa^'s are most notably not your ways. Then, 
 after dinner, you may make music in a pleas- 
 ant drawing room or saunter in the quaint 
 garden behind the hotel ; only remember that 
 the garden has a view which is necessarily lost 
 at night. 
 
 The view is good, and it improves as the 
 
 263
 
 264 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 day wears on by reason of the beetling crag 
 that stands between Cintra and the morning 
 sun. So close is this crag to the town, and so 
 sheer, that at dawn it looms the highest moun- 
 tain on earth ; but with the afternoon sunlight 
 streaming on its face you see it for what it is, 
 and there is much in the sight to satisfy the 
 eye. Halfway up the vast wall is forested 
 with fir trees picked out with bright villas and 
 streaked with the white lines of ascending 
 roads. The upper portion is of granite, 
 rugged and bare and iron gray. The topmost 
 angle is surmounted by square towers and 
 battlements that seem a part of the peak, as 
 indeed they are, since the Moors who made 
 them hewed the stones from the spot ; and 
 the serrated crest notches the sky like a crown 
 on a hoary head. Finer effects may recur 
 very readily to the traveled eye, but to one 
 too used to flat regions this is fine enough : 
 thus Tiny Luttrell was in love with Cintra 
 from the moment when she and Ruth and 
 Erskine first set foot in the garden of the 
 Portuguese hotel, and let their eyes climb up 
 the sunlit face of the rock. 
 
 They were a merrier party now than when 
 leaving Plymouth. Tliey had left fog and
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 265 
 
 damp behind them (it was near the end of 
 October), and steamed back to summer in a 
 couple of days ; and that alone was inspiriting. 
 Then they had already stayed a day or two in 
 Lisbon, where Erskine had spent as many 
 years when Ruth was an infant at the other 
 end of the world, so that he was naturally 
 a good guide. There, too, Ruth and Tiny 
 made some friends, being charmingly treated 
 by people with whom they were unable to con- 
 verse, while Erskine attended to the business 
 matter which had brought him over. The 
 girls were not sorry to hear that this matter 
 was hanging fire, as such matters have a way 
 of doing in Lisbon, for they were enjoying 
 themselves thoroughly. Ruth felt prouder 
 than ever of her big husband when she saw him 
 among his Portuguese friends, and she thought 
 him very clever to speak their language so 
 fluently. As for Tiny, she seemed herself 
 again ; she was willing to be amused, and 
 luckily there was much to amuse her. Much, 
 on the other hand, she could seriously admire, 
 and her high opinion of Portugal was itself 
 amusing after the fault she had found with 
 another country ; she even made comparisons 
 between the two, which gave considerable
 
 266 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 pleasure when translated by Erskine. Cintra 
 pleased her most, however. She delighted 
 in the hotel, where there were no English 
 tongues but their own ; she even pretended to 
 enjoy the dinner. So Erskine felt proud of 
 his choice of quarters; only he missed his 
 English paper, and had to go to the English 
 hotel and purchase unnecessary refreshment 
 on the chance of a glimpse of one. Your m^an- 
 Briton abroad is miserable without that. It is 
 a male weakness entirely. Holland took with 
 him on that pilgrimage no sympathy from the 
 ladies, who only derided him when he came 
 back confessing that he had thrown his money 
 away, as some other fellow was staying at the 
 English inn and reading the paper in his 
 room. 
 
 " But I'm very sorry there's another Eng- 
 lishman in the place," announced Christina ; 
 " though I suppose one ought to be thankful 
 he didn't choose our hotel. It is something 
 like being abroad, staying here ; one more 
 Englishman would have spoilt the fun." 
 
 " When you see the steeds I've ordered for 
 the morning," ^aid Erskine, with a laugh, 
 "you'll feel more abroad than ever." 
 
 And they did, indeed, when the morning
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 267 
 
 came ; for their steeds were three small asses 
 in charge of a dark-eyed child who was whack- 
 ing them for his amusement while he smoked 
 a cigarette. A small but picturesque crowd 
 had collected in the street to see the start, and 
 were greatly entertained by the spectacle of 
 the Senhor Inglez (a giant among them) 
 astride a donkey little taller than a big dog. 
 Interest was also shown in the camera legs, 
 which Erskine carried like a lance in rest, 
 while the camera itself was nursed by Chris- 
 tina, who had spoilt a power of plates in Lis- 
 bon without becominor discouraged. The 
 small boy threw away his cigarette, and hav- 
 ing asked Erskine for another, which was 
 sternly denied him, smote each donkey in turn 
 and set the cavalcade in motion. 
 
 They passed the palace in the little market 
 place, and were unable to admire it ; they 
 passed the loathly prison, which is the worst 
 feature of Cintra, and were duly abused by the 
 prisoners at the barred windows ; they were 
 glad to reach the outskirts of the town, and to 
 begin their ascent of the rock up which their 
 eyes had already climbed. They were to 
 devote the day to the ruined Moorish fort they 
 had seen against the sky, and to the Palace of
 
 268 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Pena, which stands on a peak hidden from the 
 town ; and Erskine, who was confident that 
 they were all going to enjoy themselves very 
 particularly, declared that the day was only 
 worthy of the cause. There was not a cloud 
 in the sky, and the weather was just warm 
 enough for the work in hand. As the donkeys 
 wended their way up the steep roads, Mr. 
 Holland was advised to get off and carry his 
 carrier ; but he knew the Cintra donkey of old, 
 and sat ignobly still. He also knew the Cin- 
 tra donkey boy, and aired his Portuguese 
 upon the attendant imp, who passed on the 
 way, and greeted with jeers, a professional 
 friend waiting with only one donkey in front 
 of a pretty house overlooking the road. 
 
 " Ah," said Erskine, '' that's the English 
 hotel ; and no doubt that moke is for the 
 opposition Senhor Inglez — whose name is 
 Jackson." 
 
 "Then pray let us push on," cried Christina 
 anxiously. " Do you suppose he is coming 
 our way, Erskine ? " 
 
 " Most probably, to begin with ; but he 
 may turn off for Monserrat or the cork con- 
 vent." 
 
 " Let us hope so. If he should pass us,
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 269 
 
 Erskine, just talk Portuguese to us as loud as 
 ever you can ! " 
 
 " Far better to hurry up and not be over- 
 taken," added Ruth, who was thinking of her 
 appearance, with which she was far from 
 satisfied. 
 
 Accordingly the imp (with whose good 
 looks Christina had already expressed herself 
 as enamored) was employed for some moments 
 at his favorite occupation. But for the pur- 
 suing Englishman, however, Tiny, instead of 
 leading the way upward, would have dis- 
 mounted more than once to set up her cam- 
 era ; for low parapets were continually on 
 their left, high w^alls on their right ; and 
 wherever there was a gap in the fir trees grow- 
 ing below the parapets, a fresh view was pre- 
 sented of the town below. First it was a 
 bird's-eye view of the palace, seen to better 
 advantaore throuo^h the trees of the Rua de 
 Duque Saldanha than before, from the street ; 
 then a fair impression of the town as a whole, 
 with its gay gardens and cheap looking stuc- 
 coed houses ; and then successive editions of 
 Cintra, each one smaller than the last, and 
 each with a wider tract of undulatino- brown 
 land beyond, and a broader band of ocean at
 
 270 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 the horizon. Then they phmged into moun- 
 tain gorges ; there were no more distant views, 
 but mighty walls on either side, and reddening 
 foliage interlacing overhead, as though v\'oven 
 upon the strip of pure blue sky. And the 
 atmosphere was clear as distilled water in a 
 crystal vessel ; but in the shade the air had a 
 sweet keenness, an inspiriting pungency, under 
 whose influence the enthusiast of the party 
 grew inevitably eloquent in the praises of 
 Portugal. 
 
 " I can't tell you how I like it ! " she said to 
 Erskine, with a color on her cheeks and a 
 light in her eyes which alone seemed worth 
 the voyage. " I call it a real good country, 
 which has never had justice done to it. If I 
 could write I would boom it. Of course I 
 haven't seen Italy or Switzerland, nor yet 
 France, but I have seen England. If I were 
 condemned to live in Europe at all, I'd rather 
 live at this end of it than at }'ours, Erskine. 
 Look at the climate — it's as good as our Aus- 
 tralian climate, and very like it — and this is all 
 but November. You have no such air in 
 England, even in summer, but when you think 
 of what we left behind us the other day, it's 
 ditch water unto wine compared with this.
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 271 
 
 Ah, what a day it is, and what a place, and 
 how fresh and queer and un-English the whole 
 thing is ! " 
 
 " 1 am perhaps spoiling it for you," sug- 
 gested Erskine apologeticall)^ " by being not 
 un-English myself ?" 
 
 " No, Erskine, it's only me you're spoiling," 
 returned the girl unexpectedly, and with a 
 grateful smile for Ruth as well. " But I don't 
 know another Briton — home or colonial — 
 who wouldn't rather spoil the day and the 
 place for me." 
 
 "That's a pity, because I happen to smell 
 the blood of an Englishman at this moment — 
 at least I hear his donkey." 
 
 They stopped to listen, and following hoofs 
 were plainly audible. 
 
 " Then he hasn't turned off for the other 
 places !" exclaimed Ruth, smoothing her skirt. 
 
 Erskine shrugged his shoulders like a 
 native of the country. " No, he is evidently 
 bound for our port ; and as the chances are 
 that he is under sixteen stone, he's sure to 
 overtake us. It is I that am keeping you all 
 back." 
 
 "We won't look round," exclaimed Tiny 
 decisively ; " and you shall shout at us in
 
 272 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Portuguese as he comes up, and we'll say 
 ' Sim, Senhor !'" 
 
 So they kept their eyes most rigorously in 
 front of them ; and such was the authority 
 of Tiny that Erskine was in the midst of an 
 absurd speech in Portuguese when they were 
 overtaken. That harangue was interrupted 
 by the voice of the interloping Englishman ; 
 and was never resumed, as the voice was Lord 
 Manister's. 
 
 The meeting was plainly an embarrassing 
 one for all concerned, but it had at least the 
 appearance of a very singular coincidence ; 
 and nothing will go further in conversation 
 than the slightest or most commonplace coin- 
 cidence. You must be very nervous indeed if 
 you are incapable of expressing your surprise, 
 of which much may be made, while the little 
 bit of personal history to follow need not 
 entail a severe intellectual effort. Lord Man- 
 ister accounted very simply, if a little eagerly, 
 for his presence in Portugal ; he went on to 
 explain that he had heard much of Cintra, but 
 not, as he was glad to find, one word too 
 much. Personally, he was delighted and 
 charmed. Was not Mrs. Holland charmed 
 and delighted? It was at Ruth's side that
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 273 
 
 Lord Manister rode forward, falling into the 
 position very naturally indeed. 
 
 Quite as naturally the other two dropped 
 behind. " So now I suppose your day will be 
 spoilt, Tiny," murmured Erskine, with a wry 
 smile. 
 
 " The day is doomed — unless he has the 
 good taste to see he isn't wanted." 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't let him see that, even if 
 he does bore you," said Erskine, who had his 
 doubts on tliis point. " I don't think he's 
 looking very well," he added meditatively. 
 
 As for Christina, she was staring fixedly at 
 Lord Manister's back ; for once, however, his 
 excellent attire earned no gibe from her ; and 
 while she was still seeking: for some more 
 convincing mode of parading her immutable 
 indifference toward that young man, a turn 
 in the road brought them suddenly before the 
 gates of Pena. The four closed up and rode 
 through the gates abreast ; and, presently dis- 
 mounting, they left their small steeds to the 
 sticks of the Cintra donkey boys, and walked 
 together up the broad, sloping path. 
 
 "By the Vv'-ay," remarked Holland, "I 
 was told there was only one other Eng- 
 lishman in Cintra at the moment — a man of
 
 ^ 
 
 274 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 the name of Jackson ; have, you arrived this 
 morning- ?" 
 
 "I am afraid — I'm Jackson!" confessed 
 Manister, with a blush and a noisy laugh. 
 
 "Oh, I see," said Mr. Holland, laughing 
 also ; and he saw a good deal. 
 
 " Of course you have to do that sometimes ; 
 I can quite understand it," Ruth said in a 
 sympathetic voice. " Still I think we must 
 call you Mr. Jackson ! " she added slyly. 
 
 Christina said nothing at all. Her extreme 
 silence and self-possession hardly tended to 
 promote the common comfort ; her only com- 
 ment on Lord Manister's alias was a some- 
 what scornful smile. As they all pressed 
 upward by well-kept paths, in the shadow of 
 tall fir trees, she kept assiduously by Erskine's 
 side. The ascent, however, was steep enough 
 to touch the breath, and conversation was for 
 some minutes neither a pleasure nor a neces- 
 sity. Then, above the firs, the, palace of Pena 
 reared hoary head and granite shoulders; for, 
 like the ruined fort visible from the town 
 below, the palace is built upon the summit of 
 a rock. Still a steeper climb, and the party 
 stood looking down upon the fir trees which 
 had just shadowed them, with their backs to
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 275 
 
 the palace walls, that seem, and often are, a 
 part of the rugged peak itself. For this is a 
 palace not only founded on a rock, and on the 
 rock's topmost crag, but the foundation has 
 itself supplied so many features ready-made 
 that nature and the Moors may be said to 
 have collaborated in its making. Three of 
 the party, having taken breath, played catch 
 with this idea ; but Christina barely listened. 
 Her attitude was regrettable, but not unnatu- 
 ral. In the last place on earth where she 
 would have expected to meet anyone she 
 knew, she had met the last person whom 
 she expected to meet anywhere. She remem.- 
 bered telling him of her mooted trip to Por- 
 tugal with the Hollands, she remembered also 
 his telling her to be sure to go to Cintra ; her 
 recollection of the conversation in question, 
 and of Lady Almeric's conservatory, where it 
 had taken place, was sufficiently clear, now 
 that she thought of it ; but certainly she had 
 never thought of it since. Had lie ? She 
 might have mentioned the time when the trip 
 was likely to take place ; she was not so sure 
 of this, but it seemed likely ; and in that case, 
 was a certain explanation of his sojourn in 
 Portugal, other than the explanation he had
 
 276 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 been so careful to give, either preposterous in 
 itself or the mere suggestion of her own 
 vanity ? 
 
 These questions were now worrying Chris- 
 tina as she had seldom been worried before, 
 even about Lord Manister, who had been 
 much in her thoughts for many weeks past. 
 Yet Manister was not the only person on her 
 mind at the moment. Just before leaving 
 London she had experienced the fulfillment of 
 a prophecy, by receiving from Countess 
 Dromard a stare as stony as the pavement 
 they met on, which was near enough to Pic- 
 cadilly to inspire a superstitious respect for 
 sibylline Mrs. Willoughby. In the disagree- 
 able moment following Tiny's thoughts had 
 flown straight to that lady — indeed her only 
 remark at the time had been " Good old Mrs. 
 Willoughby!" to which Ruth (who suffered 
 at Tiny's side, and for her part turned posi- 
 tively faint with mortification) had been in no 
 condition to reply. Little as she showed it, 
 however, Christina had felt the affront far 
 more keenly than Ruth — chiefly because she 
 took it all to herself, and was unable to think 
 it utterly undeserved. In any event she felt 
 it now. It was but the other day that the
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 277 
 
 countess had cut her. The wound was still 
 tender ; the sight of Lord Manister scrubbed 
 it cruelly. And long afterward the scar had 
 its own little place among the forces driving 
 Christina in a certain direction, whether she 
 went on feeling it or not. 
 
 Hardly less preoccupied than herself was 
 the man whose side Christina would not leave. 
 Wherefore, though the place was old ground 
 to him, as a guide he was instructive rather 
 than amusing. He spoke the requisite Por- 
 tuguese to the janitors, whose stock facts he 
 also translated into intelligible English ; he 
 led the way up the winding staircase of the 
 round tower, and from the giddy gallery at the 
 top he did not omit to point out Torres Vedras 
 and such like landmarks ; descending, he had 
 stock facts of his own connected with chapel 
 and sacristy, but he failed to make them inter- 
 esting. A paid guide could not have been 
 more perfunctory in method, though it is 
 certain that the most entertaining showman- 
 ship would have failed to entertain Erskine's 
 hearers, each one of whom was more or less 
 nervous and ill at ease. He himself was 
 thinking only of Christina, who would not 
 leave his side. He saw her watching Lord
 
 2 78 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Manister ; though she would hardly speak to 
 him, he saw pity in her glance. He heard 
 Lord Manister talking volubly to Ruth ; he 
 did not know about what, and he wondered if 
 Manister knew, himself. Erskine did not 
 understand. The girl seemed to care, and if 
 she did — if this thing was to be — he would 
 never say another word against it. If she 
 cared there v/ould not be another word to say, 
 save in joyous and loving congratulation. 
 That was the whole question : whether she 
 cared. For the first time Erskine was not 
 sure ; It was a toss-up in his mind whether 
 Tiny was sure herself. Certainly there seemed 
 to be hope for the man who was being watched 
 yet avoided ; however, Erskine was resolved 
 to give him the very first opportunity of learn- 
 ing his fate. 
 
 Accordingly he reminded Tiny that he had 
 been carrying the camera ever since they had 
 dismounted : and was his arm to ache for 
 nothing ? The suggestion of the square tower, 
 with the steps below, as an admirable target, 
 also came from Erskine. Lord Manister 
 helped to take the photograph. That, again, 
 was Erskine's doing ; and he even did more. 
 When they all turned their backs on Pena,
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 279 
 
 and their faces to the ruin on the opposite 
 peak, it was her husband who rode ahead with 
 Ruth. His reward was the smile of an angel 
 over a lost soul saved. He returned the smile 
 cynically. But round the first corner he bela- 
 bored his ass w^ith the camera legs, and shot 
 ahead, Ruth gladly following. 
 
 In the hollow between the peaks the bridle 
 path passes an ancient and picturesque 
 mosque, with a lime tree growing in the cen- 
 ter ; from this the ruin derives a roof in sum- 
 mer, a carpet in winter, and had now a little 
 of each. 
 
 "What a romantic place!" said Ruth, 
 peeping in. Her husband had waited for her 
 to do so. 
 
 " Then let us leave it to more romantic 
 people," he answered, dropping the tripod in 
 the doorway. " They may like to have a pho- 
 tograph of it — for every reason ! You and I 
 had better climb up to the fort and chuck 
 stones into Cintra till they come." 
 
 This looked quite possible when at last they 
 sat perched upon the antique battlements ; 
 they seemed so to overhang the little town. 
 Erskine lit a Portuguese cigarette, wdiich the 
 wind finished for him in a minute. Ruth kept
 
 28o TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 a hand upon her hat. Then she spoke out, 
 with the wind whistHng between their faces. 
 
 " Erskine, I know what you think— ^that this 
 isn't an accident ! " 
 
 " Of course it isn't." 
 
 " And I dare say you think / have had 
 somethingr to do with it?" 
 
 "Have you, I wonder? You may easily 
 have said that we thought of coming here — 
 quite innocently, you know." 
 
 " Then I never said so at all. I thought — 
 you know what I thought 'would have hap- 
 pened last August. Erskine, I have had abso- 
 lutely nothing to do with it this time !" 
 
 '' My dear, you needn't say that. I know 
 neither you nor Tiny have had anything to do 
 with it — so far as you are aware; but Tiny 
 must have told him we were coming here, and 
 this is his roundabout dodge of seeing her 
 again. Certainly that looks as if he were in 
 earnest." 
 
 " 1 always said he was." 
 
 " And as for Tiny, I don't pretend to make 
 her out. You see, they do not come. I 
 shouldn't be surprised at anything." 
 
 " No more should I ; but I should be thank- 
 ful. Even when T hid things from you, Er-
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 28 1 
 
 skine, I never pretended I shouldn't be thank- 
 ful if this happened, did I ? Oh, and you'll 
 be thankful, too, when )'ou see them happy — 
 as we are happy ! " 
 
 Holland sat for some minutes with bent 
 head, picking lichen from granite. 
 
 " My dear girl," he said at length, and ten- 
 derly, " don't let us talk any more about it. I 
 dare say I have taken a rotten view of it all 
 along. I only thought — that he didn't deserve 
 her, and that neither of them could care 
 enough. It seems I was more or less wrong; 
 but there is nothing further to be said until 
 we know," 
 
 He leant over the battlements, gazing down 
 into the toy town below. Ruth brooked his 
 silence for a time. Then he heard her saying : 
 
 " They are a very long while. He's cer- 
 tainly helping her to take a photograph." 
 
 " I hope he'll get a negative," said Erskine, 
 with a laucrh. 
 
 They came at last, 
 
 " How long have you been there, Erskine ?" 
 shouted Tiny from below. She held one end 
 of the tripod, by which Manister was tugging 
 her uphill. 
 
 "About ten minutes,"
 
 282 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Not as much, Erskine," said Ruth. 
 
 " We have been photographing that charm- 
 ing mosque," Manister said, as he set down the 
 camera and wiped his forehead; "you meant 
 us to, didn't you, Holland?" 
 
 " Of course I did." 
 
 "And have you got a negative?" asked 
 poor Ruth. 
 
 "A month to make up her mind!" cried 
 Erskine Holland, on hearing at second hand 
 what had actually happened in the mosque. 
 " No wonder he wouldn't stay and dine, and 
 no wonder he is croino^ back to Lisbon to-mor- 
 row. By Jove ! he m2ist be fond of her to 
 stand it at all. To go and wait a month ! " 
 
 " He offered to wait six," said Ruth. 
 
 "Then he's a fool," said Erskine quietly. 
 "Tell me, Ruth, is it a thing one may speak 
 about? One would like, of course, to say 
 something pleasant. After all, it's very like 
 an engagement, and I could at least tell her 
 that I like him. I did like him to-day. Under 
 the circumstances he bdiaved capitally ; only 
 I do think him a fool not to have insisted on 
 her deciding one way or the other." 
 
 " I don't think I'd mention the matter unless
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 283 
 
 she does," Ruth said doubtfully. " She told 
 me to tell you she would rather not speak of 
 it at present. You see she has thought of you 
 already ! She says you will find her the same 
 as ever if only you will try to look as though 
 you didn't know anything about it. She 
 declares that she means to make the most of 
 her time for the next month wherever she may 
 be, and she hopes you have ordered the don- 
 keys for to-m.orrow. Still she is troubled, and 
 if she thought you didn't disapprove — if she 
 thought you approved — I can see that it would 
 make a difference to her. She thinks so much 
 of your opinion — only she doesn't want to 
 speak to you herself about this until it is a 
 settled thing. But if you would send her your 
 blessing, dear, I know she would appreciate 
 that." 
 
 " Then take it to her by all means," said 
 Erskine, heartily enough. " Tell her I think 
 she is very wise to have left it open — you 
 needn't say what I think of Manister for let- 
 ting her do so. But you may say, if she likes 
 to hear it, that I think him a jolly good fellow^ 
 who will make her very happy if she can really 
 feel she cares for him. Tell her it all hangs 
 on that. That's what we have to impress
 
 284 IINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 upon her, and you're the proper person to do 
 so. I only felt one ought to say something 
 pleasant. Wait a moment — tell her I'll do my 
 best to give her a good time until December 
 if none of us are ever to have one again !" 
 
 Tiny was sitting at the dressing table in her 
 room, slowly and deliberately burning a pho- 
 tograph in the flame of a candle. The photo- 
 graph was on a yellow mount which Ruth 
 remembered, and as she drew near Tin}' 
 turned it face downward to the flame, which 
 smacked still more of a former occasion. 
 
 " Tiny ! " cried Ruth in alarm, laying her 
 hand on the young girl's shoulder. "What 
 on earth are you burning, dear?" 
 
 " My boats," replied Christina grimly ; and 
 turning the photograph over, the face of Jack 
 Swift was still uncharred. 
 
 " So you've carried his photograph with 
 you all this time ?" 
 
 " He is as good a friend as I shall ever 
 have." 
 
 " Then why burn him if he is only a friend ? " 
 
 " Perhaps he would like to be more ; and 
 perhaps there was once a moment when he 
 might have been. But now I shall duly 
 marry Lord Manister — if he has patience."
 
 FOREIGN son. 285 
 
 " Then why keep poor Lord Manister in 
 suspense, Tiny, dearest ? " 
 
 " Because I'm not in love with him ; and I 
 question whether he's as much in love with me 
 as he imagines — I told him so." 
 
 " As it is, you may find it difficult to draw 
 back." 
 
 " Exactly ; so I am burning my boats. 
 Jack, my dear, that's the last of you ! " 
 
 Her voice satisfied Ruth, who, however, 
 could see no more of her face than the curve 
 of her cheek, and beyond it the blackened 
 film curling from the burning cardboard.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE HIGH SEAS. 
 
 " He's done it at last!" 
 
 Erskine brandished a letter as he spoke, 
 and then leant back in his chair with a i/uffaw 
 that alarmed the Portuguese waiters. The 
 letter was from Herbert Luttrell, a Cambridge 
 man of one month's standing, of whose aca- 
 demic outset too little had been heard. His 
 sisters were anxious to know what it was that 
 he had done at last ; they put this question in 
 the same breath. 
 
 " Oh, it might be worse," said Erskine 
 cheerfully. " He has stopped short of mur- 
 der!" 
 
 " We should like to know how far he got," 
 Tiny said, while Ruth held out an eager hand 
 for the letter. 
 
 " I don't think you must read it, my dear ; 
 but the fact is he has at last filled up some- 
 body's eye !" 
 
 Tiny breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 ei6
 
 THE HIGH SEAS. 287 
 
 " Is he in prison?" asked Ruth. 
 
 " No, not yet ; but I am afraid he must be 
 in bad odor, though perhaps not with every- 
 body." 
 
 "Whose was the eye?" Christina wanted 
 to know. 
 
 " The proctor's ! " suggested Ruth. 
 
 " Not yet, again — you must give the poor 
 boy time, my dear. It may be the proctor's 
 turn next, but at present your Httle brother 
 has contented himself with fiUing'the eye of 
 the man who was coaching his college trials. 
 It's a time-honored privilege of the coach to 
 use free language to his crew, and it doesn't 
 give offense as a rule ; but it seems to have 
 offended Herbert. Young Australia don't 
 like being sworn at, and Herbert admits that 
 he swore back from his thwart, and said that 
 he fancied he was as good a man as the coach, 
 but he hoped to find out wdien they got to the 
 boathouse. They did find out ; and Herbert 
 has at last filled up an old country eye ; and 
 for my part I don't think the less of him for 
 doing so." 
 
 "The less!" cried Tiny, whose blue eyes 
 were alight. " / think all the more of him. 
 I'm proud of Herbs ! You have too many
 
 288 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 of those savage old customs, Erskine ; you 
 need Young Australia to come and knock 
 them on the head ! " 
 
 " Well, as long as he doesn't knock a proc- 
 tor on the head, as Ruth seems to fear ! If 
 he does that there's an end of him, so far as 
 Cambridge is concerned. He tells me the 
 eye was unpopular, otherwise I'm afraid he 
 would have had a warm time of it ; though 
 a quick fist and an arm that's stronger than it 
 looks are wonderful things for winning the 
 respect of men, even in these days." 
 
 " And mayn't we really see the letter ? " 
 Tiny said wistfully. 
 
 Erskine shook his head. 
 
 " I am very sorry, but I'm afraid I must treat 
 it as private. It's a verbatim report. I can only 
 tell you that Herbert seems to have been justi- 
 fied, more or less, though he is perhaps too 
 modest to report himself as fully as he reports 
 the eye. He says nothing else of any conse- 
 quence. He doesn't mention work of any 
 kind ; but he's not there only, or even pri- 
 marily, to pass exams. On the whole, we 
 mustn't fret about the eye, so long as the dear 
 boy keeps his hands off the authorities." 
 
 Their hotel was no longer at C intra, but in
 
 THE HIGH SEAS. 289 
 
 Lisbon, where Mr. Holland was being sadly 
 Jt-layed by the busuiess men of the most unbusi- 
 nesslike capital in Europe. Already it was 
 the middle of November. They had left 
 Cintra as long ago as the 5th of the month, 
 expecting to sail from Lisbon on the 7th ; but 
 out of his experience Erskine ought to have 
 known better. It is true that on landins; in 
 the country he had attended first to business. 
 The business was connected with the forming 
 of a company for certain operations on 
 Portuguese territory in the East, the capital 
 corning from London ; a board was necessary 
 in both cities, and very necessary indeed were 
 certain negotiations between the London 
 directors, as represented by Erskine Holland^ 
 and their colleagfues in Lisbon. The latter 
 had promised to do much while Erskine was 
 at Cintra, and duly did nothing until he 
 returned ; knowing their kind of old, he ought 
 never to have gone. He quite deserved to 
 have to wait and worry and smoke niore Portu- 
 guese cigarettes than were either agreeable 
 or good, with the women on his hands ; with 
 all his knowledge of the country and the people 
 he might have known very w^ell how it would 
 be — as indeed Erskine was told in a letter
 
 290 riNY LUTTRELL. 
 
 from Lombard Street, where an amusing 
 dispatch of his from Cintra had rather irri- 
 tated the senior partners. 
 
 Thus Mr. Holland had his own worries 
 throughout this trip, but it is a pleasure to 
 affirm that his sister-in-law did not add to them 
 after that first day at Cintra. Thenceforward 
 she had behaved herself as a perfectly rational 
 and even a contented being. She had appre- 
 ciated the other sigrhts of Cintra even more 
 than Pena (which had hardly been given a 
 fair chance), and most of all that gorgeous 
 earden of Monserrat, Vv^here the trees of the 
 world are grouped together, and among them 
 the enni trees which were so dear to Christina. 
 She had even been overcome by a blood- 
 thirsty desire to witness tlie bullfight on the 
 Sunday ; and Erskine had taken her, because 
 her present frame was not one to discourage ; 
 but it must be confessed that Tiny was disap- 
 pointed by the tameness of this sport rather 
 than revolted by its cruelty. Negatively, she 
 had been behaving better still ; the Cintra 
 donkey, the locality of the English hotel, and 
 other associations of the first day never once 
 perceptibly affected either her spirits or her 
 temper. She had shown, indeed, so dead
 
 THE HIGH SEAS. 291 
 
 a level of cheerfulness and good cense as to 
 seem almost uninteresting after the accus- 
 tomed undulations ; but in point of fact she 
 had never been more interesting to those in 
 her secret. She had promised to give Lord 
 Manister his answer in a month, and mean- 
 while she was displaying all the even temper and 
 equable spirits of settled happiness. She ate 
 healthily, she declared that she slept well, and 
 otherwise she was amazingly and consistently 
 serene. That was her perversity, once more, 
 but on this occasion her perversity admitted 
 of an obvious explanation. The explanation 
 was that she had never been in doubt about 
 her decision, that in her heart she was more 
 than satisfied, and that she had asked for 
 a month's respite chiefly for freedom's sake. 
 The matter was discussed no more between 
 the sisters, because Tiny refused to discuss 
 it, declaring that she had dismissed it from her 
 mind till December. And to Erskine she 
 never once mentioned it while they were in 
 Portueal, nor had she the least intention of 
 doing so on the homeward voyage, which they 
 were able ultimately to make within a week of 
 the arrival of Herbert's letter. 
 ' But the voyage was rough, and Tiny hap-
 
 292 TINY LUT'JRELL. 
 
 pened to be a remarkably good sailor, which 
 made her very tiresome once more. Holland 
 had his hands full in attending to his wife in 
 the cabin, while keeping an eye on her sister, 
 v/ho would remain on deck. Through the 
 worst of the weather the unreasonable girl 
 clung like a limpet to the rail, staring seaward 
 at the misty horizon, or downward at the milky 
 wake, until her pale face was red and rough 
 and sparkling with dried spray. 
 
 " I do wish you would come below," 
 Erskine said to her, in a tone of entreaty, 
 toward dusk on the second day, but by no 
 means for the first time. " There's not 
 another woman on deck ; and you've chosen 
 the one spot of the whole vessel where there's 
 most motion." 
 
 Until he joined her Tiny had indeed been 
 the only soul on the hurricane deck, where she 
 stood, leaning on the after-rail, with eyes for 
 nothing but the steamer's track. They were 
 on the hem of the bay and the wind was ahead, 
 so the boat was pitching ; and you must be a 
 good sailor to enjoy leaning over the after-rail 
 with this motion — but that is what Christina 
 was. The wind welded her garments to the 
 wire network underneath, and loosened her
 
 THE HIGH SEAS. 293 
 
 hair, and lit lamps in her ears ; but it seemed 
 that she liked it, and that the long, frothy trail 
 had a strong fascination for her ; for when she 
 answered, it was without lifting her eyes from 
 the sea. 
 
 " You see, I like being different from other 
 people ; that's what I go in for ! Honestly, 
 though, I love being up here, and I think you 
 might let me stay. However, that's no reason 
 why you should stay too — if it makes you feel 
 uncomfortable," 
 
 " Thanks, I think I am proof," returned 
 Erskine rather brusquely, for this is a point 
 on which most men are either vain or sensi- 
 tive ; "but of course I'll leave you, if you 
 prefer it." 
 
 " On the contrary, I should like you to stay," 
 Christina murmured — in such a lonely little 
 voice that Erskine stayed. 
 
 It was difficult to believe in this young lady's 
 sincerity, however. She not only made no 
 further remark herself, but refused to acknowl- 
 edge one of Erskine's. Men do not like that, 
 either. Tiny's eyes had never been lifted 
 from the endless race of white water, now 
 rising as tliough to their feet, now sinking 
 from under them as the steamer labored end
 
 294 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 on to the wind. Apparently she had forgotten 
 that Erskine was there, as also that she had 
 asked him to remain. He was on the point of 
 leavino; her to her reverie when she swuncj 
 round suddenly, with only one elbow on the 
 rail, and looked up at him with a pout that 
 turned slowly to a smile. 
 
 " Erskine, you've come and spoilt every- 
 thing ! " 
 
 " My dear child, I told you I would go if 
 you liked, you knovv/'." 
 
 *' Ah, that was too late ; you'd spoilt it then. 
 It won't come back." 
 
 " Do you mean that I have broken some 
 spell ? If that's the case I am very sorry." 
 
 " That won't mend it — you can't mend 
 spells," said Tiny, laughing ruefully. " Perhaps 
 it's as well you can't ; and perhaps it's a good 
 thing you came," she added more briskly. " I 
 had humbugged myself into thinking I Vv^as on 
 my way back to Australia. That was all." 
 
 " But if I were to go mightn't you humbug 
 yourself again ? " 
 
 " I don't think I want to," the girl answered 
 thoughtfully ; "at an}^ rate I don't want you to 
 go. Don't you think it's jolly up here ? To 
 me it's as good as a gallop up the bush — and
 
 THE HIGH SEAS. 295 
 
 I think we're taking our fences splendidly! 
 But it was jollier still thinking that England 
 was over there," nodding her head at the wake, 
 "and that every five minutes or so it was a 
 mile further away — instead of the other thing." 
 
 " Poor old Enoland ! " 
 
 '* No, Erskine, I meant a mile nearer Aus- 
 tralia — that was the jolly feeling," Tiny made 
 haste to explain. "You know I didn't mean 
 anything else — you know how I have enjoyed 
 being with you and Ruth. Only I can't help 
 wishing I was on my way back to Melbourne 
 instead of to Plymouth. I'd give so much to 
 see Australia again." 
 
 "Well, so you will see it again." 
 
 Her eyes sped seaward as she shook her 
 head. 
 
 . "Why on earth shouldn't you?" said Er- 
 skine, laughing. 
 
 "You know why." 
 
 Now he saw her meaning, and held his 
 tongue. This was the subject on which he 
 understood it to be her desire that they should 
 not speak. To himself, moreover, it was a 
 highly unattractive topic, and he was thor- 
 oughly glad to have it ignored as it had been ; 
 but if she alluded to the matter herself that
 
 290 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 was another thing, and he must say some- 
 thing. So he said : 
 
 " Is it really so certain, Tiny ?" 
 
 " On my part absolutely. I'm only climb- 
 ing down ! " 
 
 Erskine was reminded of the pleasant things 
 he had thouofht of savins: to her at Cintra ; 
 they had been by him so long that he found 
 himself saying them now as though he meant 
 every word. 
 
 " My congratulations must keep till the 
 proper time ; but when that comes they may 
 surprise you. My dear girl, I should like you 
 to understand that you're not the only person 
 whose opinion has changed since we were at 
 Essingham. If I may say so at this stage of 
 the proceedings, and if it is any satisfaction to 
 you to hear it, I for one am going to be very 
 glad about this thing, I think him such a first- 
 rate fellow, Tiny ! " 
 
 For a moment Christina gazed acutely at 
 her brother-in-law. " I wonder if that's sin- 
 cere?" she said reflectively. Then her eyes 
 hurried back to the sea. 
 
 " I think he's a very good fellow indeed," 
 said Erskine with emphasis. 
 
 The girl gave a little laugh, " Oh, he's
 
 THE HIGH SEAS. 297 
 
 all that ; the question is whether that's 
 enough." 
 
 " It is, if he really loves you — as I think he 
 must." 
 
 " Oh, if it's enough for him to be in love ! " 
 
 There followed a great pause, during which 
 the thought of pleasant things to say was 
 thrown overboard and left far astern. 
 
 " I only hope," Erskine said at last, with an 
 earnest ring in his voice which was new to 
 Christina, "that you are not going to make 
 the greatest mistake of your life !" 
 
 " I hope not also." 
 
 " Ah, don't make light of it ! " he cried 
 impetuously. " If you marry without love 
 you'll ruin your life, I don't care who it is you 
 marry ! To marry for affection, or for esteem, 
 or for money — they're all equally bad ; there 
 is no distinction. Take affection — for a time 
 you might be as happy as if it were something 
 more ; but remember that any day you might 
 see somebody that you could really love. 
 Then you would know the difference, and it 
 would embitter your whole existence with a 
 quiet, private, unsuspected bitterness, of which 
 you can have no conception. And so much 
 the worse if you have married som.ebody who
 
 29» TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 is honestly and sufficiently fond of you. His 
 love would cut you to the heart — because you 
 could only pretend to return it — because your 
 whole existence would be a living lie ! " 
 
 He was extremely unlike himself. His voice 
 trembled, and in the dying light his face was 
 gray. These things made his words impres- 
 sive, but the girl did not seem particularly 
 impressed. Had she remembered the one 
 previous occasion when a similar conversation 
 had taken place between them, the strange- 
 ness of his manner must have been driven 
 home to her by contrast ; but the contrast was 
 a double one, and her own share in it kept her 
 from thinking of the time when she had been 
 serious and he had not, and now, when he was 
 more serious than she had ever known him, 
 she met him with a frivolous laugh. 
 
 ''Well, really, Erskine, I've never heard you 
 so terribly in earnest before ! I think I had 
 better not tell Ruth what you have said ; my 
 dear man, you speak as though you'd been 
 there!" 
 
 It was some time before he laughed. 
 
 " If only you yourself would be more in 
 earnest, Tiny ! You may say this comes 
 badly from me. I know there has been more
 
 THE HIGH SEAS. 299 
 
 jest than earnest between me and you. But 
 if I was never serious in my life before I am 
 now, and I want you, too, to take yourself 
 seriously for once. You see. Tiny, I am not 
 only an old married man by this time, but I 
 am your European parent as well. I am 
 entitled to play the heavy father, and to give 
 you a lecture when I think you need one. My 
 dear child, I have been in the world about 
 twice as lonof as vou have, and I know men 
 and have heard of women who have poisoned 
 their whole lives by marrying Vv^ith love on the 
 other side only ; and the greater their worldly 
 goods, the greater has been their misery ! And 
 
 rather than see you do as tliey have done " 
 
 The sentence snapped. " You shan't do it ! 
 he exclaimed sharply. " You're far too good 
 to spoil yourself as others have done and are 
 doing every day." 
 
 "Who told you I was good?" inquired 
 Christina, with a touch of the coquetry which 
 even with him she could not entireb/ repress. 
 " You never had it from me, most certainly. 
 Let me tell you, Erskine, that I'm bad — bad — 
 bad! And if I haven't sliocked you suffi- 
 ciently already it is evidently time that I did ; 
 so you'll please to understand that if I marry
 
 300 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Lord Manister it is partly because I think I 
 owe it to him ; otherwise it's for the main 
 chance purely. And I think it's very unkind of 
 you to make me confess all this," she added 
 fretfully. " I never meant to speak to you 
 about it at all. Only I can't bear you to think 
 me better than I am." 
 
 Erskine shook his head sadly, 
 
 " At least you have a better side than this, 
 Tiny — this is not you at all ! You love and 
 admire all that is honest and noble, and fresh 
 and free ; you should give that love and admi- 
 ration a chance. But I'm not going to say 
 any more to worry you. If you really, with 
 your eyes open, are going to marry a man 
 v/hom you do not love, I can only tell you that 
 you will be doing at best a very cynical thing. 
 And yet — I can understand it." This he 
 added more to himself than to the girl. 
 
 He was turning away, but she laid a restrain- 
 ing hand upon his arm. 
 
 '* Don't go," she exclaimed Impulsively. ** I 
 can't let you go when — when you understand 
 me better than anyone else ever did — and 
 when I am never, never going to speak to you 
 like this afjain." 
 
 " If only I could help you ! "
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 269 
 
 Erskine, just talk Portuguese to us as loud as 
 ever you can ! " 
 
 " Far better to hurry up and not be over- 
 taken," added Ruth, who was thinking of her 
 appearance, with which she was far from 
 satisfied. 
 
 Accordingly the imp (with whose good 
 looks Christina had already expressed herself 
 as enamored) was employed for some moments 
 at his favorite occupation. But for the pur- 
 suing Englishman, however, Tiny, instead of 
 leading the way upward, would have dis- 
 mounted more than once to set up her cam- 
 era ; for low^ parapets were continually on 
 their left, high walls on their right ; and 
 wherever there was a gap in the fir trees grow- 
 ing below the parapets, a fresh view was pre- 
 sented of the town below. First it was a 
 bird's-eye view of the palace, seen to better 
 advantage through the trees of the Rua de 
 Duque Saldanha than before, from the street ; 
 then a fair impression of the town as a whole, 
 with its gay gardens and cheap looking stuc- 
 coed houses ; and then successive editions of 
 Cintra, each one smaller than the last, and 
 each with a wider tract of undulating brown 
 land beyond, and a broader band of ocean at
 
 270 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 the horizon. Then they phmged into moun- 
 tain oforcyes ; tliere were no more distant views, 
 but mighty waUs on either side, and reddening 
 fohage interlacing overhead, as though woven 
 upon the strip of pure bhie sky. And the 
 atmosphere was clear as distilled water in a 
 crystal vessel ; but in the shade the air had a 
 sweet keenness, an inspiriting pungency, under 
 whose influence the enthusiast of the party 
 grew inevitably eloquent in the praises of 
 Portugal. 
 
 " I can't tell vou how I like it !" she said to 
 Erskine, with a color on her cheeks and a 
 light in her eyes which alone seemed worth 
 the voyage. " I call it a real good country, 
 which has never had justice done to it. If I 
 could write I would boom it. Of course I 
 haven't seen Italy or Switzerland, nor yet 
 France, but I have seen England. If I were 
 condemned to live in Europe at all, I'd rather 
 live at this end of it than at yours, Erskine. 
 Look at the climate — it's as good as our Aus- 
 tralian climate, and very like it — and this is all 
 but November. You have no such air in 
 England, even in summer, but when you think 
 of what we left behind us the other day, it's 
 ditch water unto wine compared with this.
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 271 
 
 Ah, what a day it is, and what a place, and 
 how fresh and queer and un-English the whole 
 thing is ! " 
 
 " I am perhaps spoiling it for you," sug- 
 gested Erskine apologeticall)', " by being not 
 un-English myself ?" 
 
 " No, Erskine, it's only me you're spoiling," 
 returned the girl unexpectedly, and with a 
 grateful smile for Ruth as well. " But I don't 
 know another Briton — home or colonial — 
 who wouldn't rather spoil the day and the 
 place for me." 
 
 "That's a pity, because I happen to smell 
 the blood of an Englishman at this moment — 
 at least I hear his donkey." 
 
 They stopped to listen, and following hoofs 
 were plainly audible. 
 
 " Then he hasn't turned off for the other 
 places ! " exclaimed Ruth, smoothing her skirt. 
 
 Erskine shrugged his shoulders like a 
 native of the country. " No, he is evidently 
 bound for our port ; and as the chances are 
 that he is under sixteen stone, he's sure to 
 overtake us. It is I that am keeping you all 
 back." 
 
 "We w©n't look round," exclaimed Tiny 
 decisively ; " and you shall shout at us in
 
 27- TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Portuguese as he comes up, and we'll say 
 ' Sim, Senhor !'" 
 
 So they kept their eyes most rigorously in 
 front of them ; and such was the authority 
 of Tiny that Erskine was in the midst of an 
 absurd speech in Portuguese when they were 
 overtaken. That harangue was interrupted 
 by the voice of the interloping Englishman ; 
 and was never resumed, as the voice was Lord 
 Manister's. 
 
 The meeting was plainly an embarrassing 
 one for all concerned, but it had at least the 
 appearance of a very singular coincidence ; 
 and nothing will go further in conversation 
 than the slightest or most commonplace coin- 
 cidence. You must be very nervous indeed if 
 you are incapable of expressing your surprise, 
 of which much may be made, while the little 
 bit of personal history to follow need not 
 entail a severe intellectual effort. Lord Man- 
 ister accounted very simply, if a little eagerly, 
 for his presence in Portugal ; he went on to 
 explain that he had heard much of Cintra, but 
 not, as he was glad to find, one word too 
 much. Personally, he was delighted and 
 charmed. Was not Mrs. Holland charmed 
 and delighted? It was at Ruth's side that
 
 fOREIGM SOIL. 273 
 
 Lord Manister rode forward, falling into the 
 position ver)^ naturally indeed. 
 
 Quite as naturally the other two dropped 
 behind. " So now I suppose your day will be 
 spoilt, Tiny," murmured Erskine, with a wry 
 smile. 
 
 " The day is doomed — unless he has the 
 good taste to see he isn't wanted." 
 
 *' Well, I wouldn't let him see that, even if 
 he does bore you," said Erskine, who had his 
 doubts on this point. " I don't think he's 
 looking very well," he added meditatively. 
 
 As for Christina, she was staring fixedly at 
 Lord Manister's back ; for once, how^ever, his 
 excellent attire earned no gibe from her ; and 
 while she was still seeking for some more 
 convincing mode of parading her immutable 
 indifference toward that young man, a turn 
 in the road brought them suddenly before the 
 gates of Pena. The four closed up and rode 
 through the gates abreast ; and, presently dis- 
 mounting, they left their small steeds to the 
 sticks of the Cintra donkey boys, and walked 
 together up the broad, sloping path. 
 
 "By the way," remarked Holland, "I 
 was told there was only one other Eng- 
 lishman in Cintra at the moment — a man of
 
 274 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 the name of Jackson ; have you arrived this 
 mornino?" 
 
 "I am afraid — I'm Jackson:" confessed 
 Manister, with a blush and a noisy laugh. 
 
 "Oh, I see," said Mr. Holland, laughing 
 also ; and he saw a good deal. 
 
 " Of course you have to do that sometimes ; 
 I can quite understand it," Ruth said in a 
 sympathetic voice. " Still I think we must 
 call you Mr. Jackson ! " she added slyl}^ 
 
 Christina said nothing at all. Her extreme 
 silence and self-possession hardly tended to 
 promote the common comfort ; her only com- 
 ment on Lord Manister's alias was a some- 
 what scornful smile. As they all pressed 
 upward by well-kept paths, in the shadow of 
 tall fir trees, she kept assiduously by Erskine's 
 side. The ascent, however, was steep enough 
 to touch the breath, and conversation was for 
 some minutes neither a pleasure nor a neces- 
 sity. Then, above the firs, the palace of Pena 
 reared hoary head and granite shoulders; for, 
 like the ruined fort visible from the town 
 below, the palace is built upon the summit of 
 a rock. Still a steeper climb, and the party 
 stood looking down upon the fir trees which 
 had just shadowed them, with their backs to
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 275 
 
 the palace walls, that seem, and often are, a 
 part of the rugged peak itself. For this is a 
 palace not only founded on a rock, and on the 
 rock's topmost crag, but the foundation has 
 itself supplied so many features ready-made 
 that nature and the Moors may be said to 
 have collaborated in its making. Three of 
 the party, having taken breath, played catch 
 with this idea ; but Christina barely listened. 
 Her attitude v;as regrettable, but not unnatu- 
 ral. In the last place on earth where she 
 would have expected to meet anyone she 
 knew, she had met the last person whom 
 she expected to meet anywhere. She remem- 
 bered telling him of her mooted trip to Por- 
 tuo:al with the Hollands, she remembered also 
 his telling her to be sure to go to Cintra ; her 
 recollection of the conversation in question, 
 and of Lady Almeric's conservatory, where it 
 had taken place, was sufficiently clear, now 
 that she thought of it ; but certainly she had 
 never thought of it since. Had he? She 
 might have mentioned the time v.hen the trip 
 was likely lo take place ; she was not so sure 
 of this, but it seemed likely ; and in that case, 
 was a certain explanation of his sojourn in 
 Portugal, other than the explanation he had
 
 276 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 been so careful to give, either preposterous in 
 itself or the mere suggestion of her own 
 vanity ? 
 
 These questions were now worrying Chris- 
 tina as she had seldom been worried before, 
 even about Lord Manister, who had been 
 much in her thoughts for many weeks past. 
 Yet Manister was not the only person on her 
 mind at the moment. Just before leaving 
 London she had experienced the fulfillment of 
 a prophecy, by receiving from Countess 
 Dromard a stare as stony as the pavement 
 they met on, which was near enough to Pic- 
 cadilly to inspire a superstitious respect for 
 sibylline Mrs. Willoughby. In the disagree- 
 able moment following Tiny's thoughts had 
 flown straight to that lady — indeed her only 
 remark at the time had been " Good old Mrs. 
 Willoughby!" to which Ruth (who suffered 
 at Tiny's side, and for her part turned posi- 
 tively faint with mortification) had been in no 
 condition to reply. Little as she showed it, 
 however, Christina had felt the affront far 
 more keenly than Ruth — chiefly because she 
 took it all to herself, and was unable to think 
 it utterly undeserved. In any event she felt 
 it now. It was but the other day that the
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 277 
 
 countess had cut her. The wound was still 
 tender ; the sight of Lord Manister scrubbed 
 it cruelly. And long afterward the scar had 
 its own little place among the forces driving 
 Christina in a certain direction, whether she 
 went on feeling it or not. 
 
 Hardly less preoccupied than herself was 
 the man whose side Christina would not leave. 
 Wherefore, though the place was old ground 
 to him, as a guide he was instructive rather 
 than amusing. He spoke the requisite Por- 
 tuguese to the janitors, whose stock facts he 
 also translated into intelligible English ; he 
 led the way up the winding staircase of the 
 round tower, and from the giddy gallery at the 
 top he did not omit to point out Torres Vedras 
 and such like landmarks ; descending, he had 
 stock facts of his own connected with chapel 
 and sacristy, but he failed to make them inter- 
 esting. A paid guide could not have been 
 more perfunctory in method, though it is 
 certain that the most entertaininof showman- 
 ship would have failed to entertain Erskine's 
 hearers, each one of whom was more or less 
 nervous and ill at ease. He himself was 
 thinking only of Christina, who would not 
 leave his side. He saw her watching Lord
 
 2 78 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Manister ; thoug-h she would hardly speak to 
 him, he saw pity in her glance. He heard 
 Lord Manister talking volubly to Ruth ; he 
 did not know about what, and he wondered if 
 Manister knew, himself. Erskine did not 
 understand. The girl seemed to care, and if 
 she did — if this thing was to be — he would 
 never say another word against it. If she 
 cared there would not be another word to say, 
 save in joyous and loving congratulation. 
 That was the whole question : whether she 
 cared. For the first time Erskine was not 
 sure ; it was a toss-up in his mind whether 
 Tiny was sure herself. Certainly there seemed 
 to be hope for the man who was being watched 
 yet avoided ; however, Erskine was resolved 
 to give him the very first opportunity of learn- 
 ing his fate. 
 
 Accordingly he reminded Tiny that he had 
 been carrying the camera ever since they had 
 dismounted : and was his arm to ache for 
 nothing ? The suggestion of the square tower, 
 with the steps below, as an admirable target, 
 also came from Erskine. Lord Manister 
 helped to take the photograph. That, again, 
 was Erskine's doine ; and he even did more. 
 When they all turned their backs on Pena,
 
 FORETGN SOIL. 279 
 
 and their faces to the ruin on the opposite 
 peak, it was her husband who rode ahead with 
 Ruth. His reward was the smile of an an^el 
 over a lost soul saved. He returned the smile 
 cynically. But round the first corner he bela- 
 bored his ass with the camera legs, and shot 
 ahead, Ruth gladly following. 
 
 In the hollow between the peaks the bridle 
 path passes an ancient and picturesque 
 mosque, with a lime tree growing in the cen- 
 ter ; from this the ruin derives a roof in sum- 
 mer, a carpet in winter, and had now a little 
 of each. 
 
 " What a romantic place ! " said Ruth, 
 peeping in. Her husband had waited for her 
 to do so. 
 
 " Then let us leave it to more romantic 
 people," he answered, dropping the tripod in 
 the doorway. " They may like to have a pho- 
 tograph of it — for every reason ! You and I 
 had better climb up to the fort and chuck 
 stones into Cintra till the}- come." 
 
 This looked quite possible when at last they 
 sat perched upon the antique battlements ; 
 they seemed so to overhang the little town. 
 Erskine lit a Portu.oruese cicrarette, which the 
 wind finished for him in a minute. Ruth kept
 
 28o TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 a hand upon her hat. Then she spoke out, 
 with the wind whistHng between their faces. 
 
 " Erskine, I know what you think — ^that this 
 isn't an accident ! " 
 
 " Of course it isn't." 
 
 "And I dare sa)' you think / have had 
 something to do with it ?" 
 
 "Have you, I wonder? You may easily 
 have said that we thought of coming here — 
 quite innocently, you know." 
 
 " Then I never said so at all. I thought — 
 you know what I thought would have hap- 
 pened last August. Erskine, I have had abso- 
 lutely nothing to do with it this time !" 
 
 " My dear, you needn't say tliat. I know 
 neither you nor Tiny have had anything to do 
 with it — so far as you are aware; but Tiny 
 must have told him we were cominof here, and 
 this is his roundabout dodofe of seeing her 
 again. Certainly that looks as if he were in 
 earnest." 
 
 " I always said he was." 
 
 " And as for Tiny, I don't pretend to make 
 her out. \ou see, they do not come. I 
 shouldn't be surprised at anything." 
 
 " No more should I ; but I should be thank- 
 ful. Even when T hid things from you, Er-
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 28 1 
 
 skine, I never pretended I shouldn't be thank- 
 ful if this happened, did I ? Oh, and you'll 
 be thankful, too, when you see them happy — 
 as we are happy ! " 
 
 Holland sat for some minutes with bent 
 head, picking lichen from granite. 
 
 " My dear girl," he said at length, and ten- 
 derly, " don't let us talk any more about it. I 
 dare say I have taken a rotten view of it all 
 along. I only thouglit — that he didn't deserve 
 her, and that neither of them could care 
 enough. It seems I was more or less wrong; 
 but there is nothinof further to be said until 
 we know." 
 
 He leant over the battlements, gazing down 
 into the toy town below. Ruth brooked his 
 silence for a time. Then he heard her saying : 
 
 "They are a very long while. He's cer- 
 tainly helping her to take a photograph." 
 
 •" I hope he'll get a negative," said Erskine, 
 with a laugrh. 
 
 They came at last. 
 
 " How long have you been there, Erskine ?" 
 shouted Tiny from below. She held one end 
 of the tripod, by which Manister was tugging 
 her uphill. 
 
 "About ten minutes." ^
 
 282 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " Not as much, Erskine," said Ruth. 
 
 *' We have been photographing that charm- 
 ing mosque," Manister said, as he set down the 
 camera and wiped his forehead ; " you meant 
 us to, didn't you, Holland?" 
 
 " Of course I did." 
 
 "And have you got a negative?" asked 
 poor Ruth. 
 
 "A month to make up her mind!" cried 
 Erskine Holland, on hearing at second hand 
 what had actually happened in the mosque. 
 " No wonder he wouldn't stay and dine, and 
 no wonder he is going back to Lisbon to-mor- 
 row. By Jove ! he must be fond of her to 
 stand it at all. To go and wait a month ! " 
 
 *' He offered to wait six," said Ruth. 
 
 "Then he's a fool," said Erskine quietly. 
 " Tell me, Ruth, is it a thing one may speak 
 about ? One would like, of course, to say 
 something pleasant. After ail, it's very like 
 an engagement, and I could at least tell her 
 that I like him. I did like him to-day. Under 
 the circumstances he behaved capitally ; only 
 I do think him a fool not to have insisted on 
 her deciding one way or the other." 
 
 " I don't think I'd mention the matter unless
 
 FOREIGN SOIL. 283 
 
 she does," Ruth said doubtfully. " She told 
 me to tell you she would rather not speak of 
 it at present. You see she has thought of you 
 already ! She says you will find her the same 
 as ever if only you will try to look as though 
 you didn't know anything about it. She 
 declares that she means to make the most of 
 her time for the next month wherever she may 
 be, and she hopes you have ordered the don- 
 keys for to-morrow. Still she is troubled, and 
 if she thought you didn't disapprove — if she 
 thought you approved — I can see that it would 
 make a difference to her. She thinks so much 
 of your opinion — only she doesn't want to 
 speak to you herself about this until it is a 
 settled thing. But if you would send her your 
 blessing, dear, I know she would appreciate 
 that." 
 
 " Then take it to her by all means," said 
 Erskine, heartily enough. " Tell her I think 
 she is very wise to have left it open — you 
 needn't say what I think of Manister for let- 
 ting her do so. But you may say, if she likes 
 to hear it, that I think him a jolly good fellov/^ 
 who will make her very liappy if she can really 
 feel she cares for him. Tell her it all hangs 
 on that. That's what we have to impress
 
 284 'JINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 upon her, and you're the proper person to do 
 so. I only feh one ought to say something 
 pleasant. Wait a moment — tell her I'll do my 
 best to give her a good time until December 
 if none of us are ever to have one again ! " 
 
 Tiny was sitting at the dressing table in her 
 room, slowly and deliberately burning a pho- 
 tograph in the flame of a candle. The photo- 
 graph was on a yellow mount which Ruth 
 remembered, and as she drew near Tiny 
 turned it face downward to the flame, which 
 smacked still more of a former occasion. 
 
 " Tiny ! " cried Ruth in alarm, laying her 
 hand on the young girl's shoulder. "What 
 on earth are you burning, dear?" 
 
 " My boats," replied Christina grimly ; and 
 turning the photograph over, the face of Jack 
 Swift was still uncharred, 
 
 " So you've carried his photograph with 
 you all this time ?" 
 
 '* He is as good a friend as I shall ever 
 have." 
 
 " Then why burn him if he is only a friend ? " 
 
 " Perhaps he would like to be more ; and 
 perhaps there was once a moment when he 
 might have been. But now I shall duly 
 marry Lord Manister — if he has patience."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 counsel's opinion. 
 
 The worst of it all was this : that the young 
 man himself had not invariably that confidence 
 in his own affections which displayed itself so 
 bravely and so convincingly at a psychological 
 moment. Not that Manister was insincere, 
 exactly. If you come to think of it, you may 
 deceive others with perfect innocence, having 
 once deceived yourself. And this was exactly 
 what had happened. 
 
 There was one distinctive feature of the 
 case : away from Christina Luttrell the poor 
 fellow had already had his doubts of himself ; 
 in her presence those doubts were as certain 
 to evaporate as snowflakes in the warmth of 
 the sun. 
 
 Even as he went down Mrs. Holland's stairs 
 Manister was joined by certain invisible com- 
 panions — the misgivings that had made their 
 escape as Christina entered the room. They 
 had waited for him on the landing outside the 
 
 317
 
 3l8 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 door. They led and followed him downstairs. 
 They linked arms with him in the street. 
 They stifled him in his hansom, which they 
 boarded ruthlessly. In one of the silent rooms 
 of the club to which he drove they talked to 
 him silently, sitting on the arms of his saddle- 
 back chair and aroruinor all at once. Powerless 
 to shake them off he was forced to bear with 
 them, to hear what they had to say, to answer 
 them where he could. 
 
 Mingling with the importunate voices of his 
 inner consciousness were the remembered 
 words of the eii'l- She had asked him whether 
 he had never burst out laughing as the affair 
 presented itself in certain lights ; he did so now, 
 silently, it is true, but with exceeding bitter- 
 ness. She had told him that it was not enough 
 that he should feel willing to wait for her when 
 they were together ; and now that he had left 
 her, though so lately, he was certainly less 
 inclined to be patient. She had suggested 
 that he was more fascinated than in love ; and 
 already he knew that her suggestion had given 
 shape and utterance to a vague suspicion of 
 his own soul. She had gone so far as to hint 
 at the possible secret of his infatuation, and 
 there again she had hit the mark ; though
 
 COUNSEL'S OPINION. 3^9 
 
 apart from her talent of torture her sweet looks 
 and charming ways had been strong wine to 
 Manister from the first. Still her snubs had 
 piqued his passion in the beginning of things 
 out in Melbourne ; and here in Europe she 
 had virtually refused him three times. Modest 
 he might be, and yet know that this were 
 a rare experience for such as himself at the 
 hands of such as Tiny Luttrell. On the whole, 
 the experience was sufficiently complete as it 
 stood ; yet he could not help wishing to win ; 
 indeed, he had gone too far to draw back, and 
 for that reason alone the idea of defeat in the 
 end was intolerable to him. And this was the 
 one spring of his actions which seemed to have 
 escaped Christina's notice ; the others she had 
 detected with an acuteness which made him 
 wonder, for the first time, whether on her very 
 merits she would be a comfortable person to 
 live with, after all. 
 
 Gradually, however, these echoes of the late 
 interview grew fainter in his ears, and its up- 
 shot came home to Manister with sensations 
 of chagrin sharper than any he had endured 
 in all his life before. His feelings when 
 refused by this girl in the previous August, 
 and under peculiarly humiliating circum-
 
 32 O TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Stances, were enviable compared with his feel- 
 ings now. Then he had deserved his humilia- 
 tion — at least he was generous enough to say 
 so — and he had taken what he called his pun- 
 ishment in a very manly spirit. But the desire 
 to win had sent him on a secret mission to 
 Cintra, on the chance of seeing her there, and 
 his present feelings reminded him of those 
 with which he had beaten his retreat from 
 Portugal. For he had gone there for a final 
 answer, and had come back without one ; and 
 to-day he had suffered afresh that selfsame 
 humiliation, only in an aggravated form, and 
 more voluntarily than ever. She had never 
 asked him to wait ; he had offered on both 
 occasions to wait six months — nay, he had 
 insisted on waiting. Even now, within a 
 couple of hours after the event, he could 
 scarcely credit his own weakness and stultifi- 
 cation. He was by no means so weak in 
 affairs wherein the affections played no part. 
 He firmly believed that no other woman could 
 have twisted him round her finger as this one 
 had done. But here, perhaps, we have merely 
 the everyday spectacle of a young man dis- 
 cerning exceptional excuses for a realized 
 infirmity ; and the point is that Manister
 
 COUNSEL'S OPINIOM. 32 1 
 
 realized his weakness this evening as he had 
 never done before. The girl herself had 
 made him look inward. She had suggested 
 fascination, not love. That suggestion stuck 
 painfully. Yet he was not sure. 
 
 Never had he felt so horribly unsure of him- 
 self ; in the midst of his self-distrust there 
 came to him, suddenly, the recollection that 
 she distrusted him no longer, and there was 
 actually some comfort in this thought, which 
 is stranee when vou note its fellows, but due 
 less to the contradictoriness of human nature 
 than to the supremacy of a young man's van- 
 ity. He stood w^ell with her now. She 
 believed in him at last. Propped up by 
 these reflections, he began almost to believe 
 in himself. At least a momentary compla- 
 cency was the result. 
 
 The improvement in his spirits allowed 
 Lord Manister to give heed to another por- 
 tion of his organism which had for some time 
 been inviting him to go into another room and 
 dine. Now he did so, with a sharp eye for 
 acquaintances, whom he had no desire to meet. 
 For this reason he had driven to the club 
 which he had joined most recently ; it was not 
 a young man's club, so he felt fairly safe from
 
 32 2 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 his friends. Yet he had hardly ordered his 
 soup, and was searching the wine Ust for the 
 choice brand which the circumstances seemed 
 to demand, when a heavy hand dropped upon 
 his shoulder, and his glance leapt from the 
 wine list to the last face he expected or 
 wished to see — that of his kinsman Captain 
 Dromard. 
 
 Captain Dromard was a cousin of the pres- 
 ent earl, and notoriously the rolling stone of 
 his house. Manister had seen him last in 
 Melbourne, and ever since had borne him a 
 grudge w^hich he was not likely to forget. 
 Had he dreamt that the captain (who had 
 been last heard of in Borneo) was in London, 
 Manister would have shunned this club in 
 order to avoid the risk of meeting him ; but 
 it seemed that Captain Dromard had landed in 
 England only that morning : and they dined 
 together, of course ; and Manister made the 
 best of it. His kinsman was a big, grizzled, 
 florid man, v;ith an imperial, and with a comic 
 wicked cut about him which made one laugh. 
 But he retained an unpleasant trick of treating 
 Manister as a mere boy : for instance, he was 
 in time to choose the brand, and, as he said 
 before the waiter, to prevent Manister from
 
 COUNSEL'S OPINION. Z^:^ 
 
 poisoning himself. He was, however, an 
 entertaining person, and at his best to-night, 
 being wont to delight in London for a day or 
 two before realizing the infernal qualities of 
 the climate and arranging fresh travels. But 
 INIanister was not entertained ; he tried to 
 appear so, but the captain saw through 
 the pretense, and immediately scented a 
 woman. There were reasons why the 
 rolling stone was particularly good at 
 detecting this element — which always in- 
 terested him. His interest was unusual in 
 the present instance, owing to certain reminis- 
 cences of Manister in Melbourne during his 
 own flying visit to that port. It was during a 
 subsequent week-end in England that Captain 
 Dromard had alarmed the countess, with a 
 result of which he was as yet unaware ; but he 
 did not hesitate to make inquiries now, and he 
 began by asking Manister how he had man- 
 aged to get out of the scrape in which he had 
 left him. 
 
 " I remember no scrape," said Manister 
 
 stiffly. 
 
 " You don't ? Well, perhaps I put it too 
 strongly," conceded the captain. " We'll say 
 no more about it, my boy. Devilish pretty
 
 324 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 little thing, though ; remember her well, but 
 could never recall her name. By the bye, I'm 
 afraid I terrified your mother over that; feared 
 she was going to cable you home next day ; 
 was sorry I spoke." 
 
 "So was I," Manister said dryly, but, by an 
 effort, not forbiddingly, so that the captain 
 saw no harmx in raising his glass. 
 
 " Well, here's to the lady's health, my boy, 
 whoever she was, and wherever she may be ! " 
 
 Manister smiled across his glass and drained 
 it in silence. There was a glitter in his young 
 eyes which made it difficult for the captain to 
 drop the subject finally. Manister had been 
 drinking freely, without becoming flushed, 
 which is another sign of trouble. The cap- 
 tain could not help saying confidentially : 
 
 "You know, Harry, your mother was so 
 keen for you to marry one of old Acklam's 
 daughters. That's what frightened her. But 
 it is to come off some day, isn't it ?" 
 
 " Can't say," said Lord Manister. 
 
 " It ought to, Harry. I like to see a young 
 fellow with your position marry properly, and 
 settle down. I don't know which of the 
 Garths it is, but I've always heard one of 'em 
 was the girl yoil liked."
 
 COUNSEL'S OPINION. 325 
 
 " Suppose the girl you like won't marry 
 you ? " Manister exclaimed, with a sudden 
 change of manner, and in the tone of one con- 
 sulting an authority. 
 
 " Well, there's an endon't." 
 
 " Ah, but suppose she can't make up her 
 mind ? " 
 
 "You might give her a month — though I 
 wouldn't." 
 
 " Suppose a month is not enough for her?" 
 
 The captain stared ; his bronzed forehead 
 became barred with furrows ; his eyes turned 
 stony with indignation. 
 
 " A month not enough for her to make up 
 her mind — ^about you?" he said at length 
 incredulously. " Good God, sir, see her to the 
 devil ! " 
 
 Then Lord Manister showed his teeth. 
 Though he had consulted the captain, he took 
 his advice badly. He said you could not be 
 much in love to be choked off so easily ; he 
 hinted that his kinsman had never been much 
 in love. Captain Dromard intimated in reply 
 that whether that was the case or not he was 
 not without experience of a sort, and he could 
 tell Harry that no wom.an under heaven was 
 worth kneeling in the mud to, which Harry
 
 326 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 said hotly was unnecessary information. So 
 they went elsewhere to smoke, and later on to 
 a music hall, the subject having been left for 
 good in the club coffee room. The following 
 afternoon, however. Lord Manister drove 
 through the snow with a very resolute front to 
 show to Tiny Luttrell, who was just then pass- 
 ing Deal in the Ballaarat, without having 
 given him the faintest notion yesterday that 
 she was to sail to-day.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 IN HONOR BOUND. 
 
 Aboard the Ballaarat Christina committed a 
 new eccentricity, but it maybe well to state at 
 once, a perfectly harmless one. She confided 
 in another girl — a practice which Tiny had 
 avoided all her life. And this very girl had 
 offended her at first sight by looking aggres- 
 sively happy when the boat sailed and all nice 
 women were in tears. 
 
 There had been a time when Christina sel- 
 dom cried, but in England she had grown very 
 soft in some ways, and she looked her last at 
 it, and at the snow that had fallen in the night 
 as if to please her, through blinding tears. 
 She had never in her life felt more acutely 
 wretched than when saying good-by to Ruth 
 and Erskine, and her sorrow was heightened 
 by the feeling that she had been both unkind 
 and ungrateful to Ruth, to whom she clung for 
 forofiveness at the last moment. The reason 
 why her parting words were jocular, though 
 
 3*7
 
 328 7'INY LUTTRELL. 
 
 broken, was because the sight of an honest, 
 smiling face, which might have blushed for 
 smiling then, sent a tieam of irritation through 
 her heart that awoke thelatent mischief in her 
 wet eyes. 
 
 " I do wish you would ask Erskine to throw 
 a snowball at that depressing person," she 
 whispered to Ruth, *' who does nothing but 
 laugh and look really happy ! If it was only 
 put on for the sake of her friends I could 
 forgive her ; but it isn't. Tell him I mean it 
 — there's no fun in me to-day; and you may 
 also tell him that it would have been only 
 brotherly of him to kiss me on this occasion, 
 when we may all be going to the bottom ! " 
 
 Erskine, who had crossed the gangway before 
 his wife, so that she need not feel that he over- 
 heard her final words to her own kin, shook 
 his head at Tiny when Ruth joined him on the 
 quay. But his smile was lifeless ; there was 
 no fun in him either to-day. He drew his 
 wife's arm through his own, and Tiny saw the 
 last of them standing together thus. They 
 stood in snow and mud, but the railway shed 
 behind them was a great sheet of unsullied 
 whiteness, softly edging the bright December 
 sky, and Christina never forgot her first
 
 IN HONOR BOUND. 329 
 
 glimpse of the snow and her last of Ruth and 
 Erskine. When their figures were gone and 
 only the snow was left for Christina's eyes, 
 they filled afresh, and she broke hastily from 
 Herbert, who was himself uncommonly de- 
 jected. She hurried unsteadily to her cabin, 
 to find her cabin companion singing softly to 
 herself as she unstrapped her rugs ; for her 
 cabin companion was, of course, the odiously 
 cheerful person who already on deck had done 
 violence to Christina's feelings. 
 
 Thus the acquaintance began in a particu- 
 larly unpromising manner ; but the cheerful 
 person turned out to be as bad a sailor as 
 Christina was a good one, and she met with 
 much practical kindness at Christina's hands, 
 which had a clever, tender way with them, 
 though in other respects the good sailor was 
 not from the first so sympathetic. It is harder 
 than it ought to be to sympathize with the 
 seasick when one is quite well one's self; still 
 Christina found it impossible not to admire 
 her extraordinary companion, who kept up 
 her spirits during a whole week spent in her 
 berth, and was more cheerful than ever at the 
 end of it, when she could scarcely stand. 
 Then Christina expressed her admiration, like-
 
 330 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 wise her curiosity, and received a simple 
 explanation. The cheerful person was on 
 her way to Colombo and the altar-rails. Her 
 trotisseau was in the hold. 
 
 The two became exceeding fast friends, and 
 their friendship was founded on mutual envy. 
 Tiny was envied for the various qualities which 
 made her greatly admired on board, for that 
 admiration itself, and for the marked manner 
 in which she paid no heed to it ; and she envied 
 her friend a very ordinary love story, now 
 approaching a very ordinary end. The cheer- 
 ful girl was plain, unaccomplished, and not at 
 all young. But there was one whom she loved 
 better than herself ; she was properly engaged ; 
 she was happy in her engagement ; her soul 
 was settled and at peace. Also she was good, 
 and Christina envied her far more than she 
 envied Christina, who would listen wistfully 
 to the commonplace expression of a common- 
 place happiness, but was herself much more 
 reserved. It was only when the other girl 
 guessed it that she admitted that she also was 
 " as good as engaged." The other girl clam- 
 ored to know all about it ; and ultimately, in 
 the Indian Ocean, she discovered that Chris- 
 tina was not the least in love with the man to
 
 nV HONOR BOUND. 33 1 
 
 whom she was as p^ood as engaged. Then 
 this honest person spoke her mind with 
 extreme freedom, and Christina, instead of 
 being offended, opened her own heart as 
 freely, merel)' keeping to herself the man's 
 name and never hinting at his high degree. 
 She declared that she was morally bound to 
 him, adding that she had treated him badly 
 enough already ; her friend ridiculed the bond^ 
 and told her how she would be treating him 
 worse than ever. Christina argued — it was 
 curious how fond she was of arguing the 
 matter, and how she allowed herself to be 
 lectured by a stranger. But these two were 
 not strangers now ; the cheerful girl was the 
 best friend Tiny had ever made among 
 women. They parted with a wrench at 
 Colombo, where Tiny saw the other safely 
 into the arms of a gentleman of a suitably 
 happy and ordinary appearance ; and so one 
 more friend passed in and out of the young 
 girl's life, leaving a deeper mark in the three 
 weeks than either of them suspected. 
 
 The rest of the voyage dragged terribly with 
 Christina, which is an unusual experience for 
 the prettiest girl aboard an Australian liner ; 
 only on this voyage the prettiest girl was also
 
 332 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 the most unsociable. Beyond her late com- 
 panion (whose berth remained empty to 
 depress Christina whenever she entered the 
 cabin) Miss Luttrell had formed few acquaint- 
 ances and no friendships between London and 
 Colombo ; between Colombo and Melbourne 
 she simply preyed upon herself. Herbert 
 remonstrated with her, and the third officer — 
 who had been fourth on the boat in which 
 they had come over — was excessively inter- 
 ested, remembering the difference six months 
 earlier. Then, indeed, Christina had found a 
 good deal to say to all the officers, including 
 the captain, \vhom she had chaffed notoriously ; 
 but now she would stay out late and alone on 
 the starlit deck without ever breaking the 
 rules by conversing with the officer of the 
 watch (her pet trick formerly), and only the 
 third, who knew her of old, had the right to 
 bid her good-day. Tiny's cheerful friend had 
 left her wretched and apprehensive. She saw 
 the Southern Cross rise out of the Southern 
 Sea without a thrill of welcome, but rather with 
 a vague dismay ; from the after-rail she said 
 good-by to the Great Bear with a shudder at 
 the thought of seeing it again. Neither end 
 of the earth presented a very peaceful prospect
 
 IN HONOR BOUND. 333 
 
 to Christina as she hovered between the two 
 on the steamer's deck. She had quite made 
 up her mind to return to England, however, 
 and to reward Lord Manister's long-suffering 
 docility by marrying him at the end of the six 
 months. Meanwhile she would enjoy Aus- 
 tralia and tell only one of her friends there. 
 One she must tell, and with her own lips, in 
 case she should be misjudged. And thinking 
 not a little of her own justification, she in- 
 vehted a small sophistry with which to defend 
 herself as occasion might arise. She argued 
 that two men were in love with her, that she 
 herself was in love with neither, but that she 
 liked one of them too well to marry him with- 
 out love. Therefore, she said, the easiest way 
 out of it was to marry the other, who not only 
 had less in him to satisfy, but who had more 
 to give in place of real happiness. She was 
 proud of this argument. She was sorry it had 
 not occurred to her before stopping at Co- 
 lombo — forgetting that she had told her 
 friend of only one man who was in love with 
 her. But the heart starves on sophistry with 
 nothing to it ; and with Christina the voyage 
 dragged cruelly to its end. 
 
 But the moment she landed in Melbourne
 
 334 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 a good thing happened to her — she was 
 snatched out of herself. A common shock 
 and anxiety awaited both Christina and Her- 
 bert Luttrell : they found their mother in tears 
 over a piece of very bad news from Wallan- 
 doon. It seemed that Mr. Luttrell had gone 
 up to the station the week before to choose 
 the site for a well which he was about to sink 
 at considerable expense, and that he was now 
 lying at the old homestead with a broken leg, 
 the result of a buggy accident with a pair of 
 young horses. He was able to write with his 
 own hand in pencil, and he mentioned that 
 Swift had fetched a surgeon from the river in 
 the quickest time ever known ; that the sur- 
 geon had set the leg quite successfully, so that 
 there was no occasion for anxiet}', though nat- 
 urally he should be unable to leave Wallan- 
 doon for some weeks. He expressed forcibly 
 the hope that his wife would not think of join- 
 ing him there ; she was not strong enough, 
 and he needed no attention. Nevertheless, 
 had the Ballaarat arrived one day later, Mrs. 
 Luttrell would have gone. Her two children 
 were in time to restrain her, but only by 
 undertakinor to oo instead. Before they could 
 realize that they had spent an afternoon and
 
 IN HONOR BOUND. 335 
 
 a night in Melbourne they had left the city 
 and had embarked on an inland voyage of five 
 hundred miles up country. 
 
 So their first full day ashore was spent in 
 a railway carriage ; but all that night the stars 
 were in their eyes, and the gum trees racing 
 by on either hand, and the warm wind fanning 
 their faces, because Tiny would never travel 
 inside the coach. They were back in Riverina. 
 The Murray coiled behind them ; the Mur- 
 rumbidgee lay before. And the night after 
 that they were creeping across the desert of 
 the One Tree Plain, with the Lachlan lying 
 ahead and the Murrumbidgee left behind. 
 Here the leather-hung coach labored in the 
 mud, for the Lachlan district was suffering 
 before it could profit from a rather heavy rain- 
 fall three days old ; and the driver flogged 
 seven horses all night long instead of mildly 
 chastening five, and the girl at his side could 
 not have slept if she had tried, but she did not 
 try. To her the night seemed too good to 
 miss. The stars slione brilliantly from rim to 
 rim of the unbroken plain, and upward from 
 the overflowing crab-holes, and even in the 
 flooded ruts, where the coach wheels split and 
 scattered them like quicksilver beneath the
 
 336 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 thumb. There was no conversation on the 
 coach. On the eve of fachig his father Her- 
 bert was rehearsing his defense, while Tiny 
 was just reveHng in the night, and feeling very 
 happy, so she said. 
 
 For a couple of hours before dawn they 
 rested at Booligal. But Booligal is notorious 
 for its mosquitoes, and there had been three 
 inches of rain there, so the rest was a mockery. 
 Tiny had a bed to lie down on, but she did 
 not lie long. She was found by Herbert (who 
 smoked six pipes in those two hours), leaning 
 against one of the veranda posts as if asleep 
 on her feet, but with eyes fixed intently upon 
 a dull, reddening arc on the very edge of the 
 darkling plain. 
 
 "By the time we get there," said Herbert 
 severely, " you'll be just about dished ! What 
 on earth are you doing out here instead of 
 taking a spell when you can get it ?" 
 
 " I'm watching for the sun," murmured 
 Christina, without moving. " It's a regular 
 Australian dawn ; you never saw one like it in 
 England. Here the sun gets up in the middle 
 of the night, and there he very often doesn't 
 get up at all. Oh, but it's glorious to be back 
 — AoViX, you think so, old Herbs?"
 
 IN HONOR BOUND. 337 
 
 " I might — if it wasn't for the grovernor." 
 
 Tiny fiushed with shame. She had forgot- 
 ten the accident. Being reminded of it she 
 turned her back on the sunrise in deep contri- 
 tion, but she had not taken Herbert's meaning. 
 
 " I funk facing him," said he gloomily. " I 
 have nothing to say for myself, and if I had 
 a fellow couldn't say it with the poor governor 
 lying on his back." 
 
 " Poor old Herbs ! " said Tiny kindly. '' I 
 don't think you have much to fear, however. 
 It was our mistake in wanting you to go to 
 Cambridge when you'd been your own boss 
 always. You were born for the bush — I'm not 
 sure that we both weren't ! " 
 
 He did not hear her sigh. 
 
 " It's all very well for you to talk, Tiny ! 
 You haven't to make your peace with anybody 
 — you haven't to confess that you've made a 
 ghastly fool of yourself ! " 
 
 '' Have I not?" exclaimed the girl bitterly. 
 
 " I thought you weren't going to mention 
 his name ?" Herbert said in surprise. 
 
 " No more I am," replied Tiny, recovering 
 herself. " So, as you say, it is all very well for 
 me to talk." And as she turned a ball of fire 
 was balanced on the distant rim of the plain,
 
 338 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 and the arc above was now a semicircle of 
 crimson, which blended even yet with the lin- 
 gering shades of night. 
 
 Even Herbert was not in all Tiny's secrets. 
 He never dreamt that she had before her an 
 ordeal far worse than his own. When they 
 sighted the little township where the station 
 buggy always met the coach, he thought her 
 excitement due to obvious and natural causes. 
 The township roofs gleamed in the afternoon 
 sun for half an hour before one could distin- 
 guish even a looked-for object, such as a buggy 
 drawn up in the shade at the hotel veranda. 
 Herbert had time to become excited himself, in 
 spite of the ignoble circumstances of his return. 
 
 " I see it ! " he exclaimed M'ith confidence, 
 at five hundred yards. " And good old Bush- 
 man and Brownlock are the pair. I'd spot 
 'em a mile off." 
 
 " Can you see who it is in the buggy ? " 
 asked Tiny, at two hundred. She was sitting 
 like a mouse between Herbert and the driver. 
 
 " I shall in a shake ; I think it's Jack Swift." 
 
 He did not know how her heart was beating. 
 At fifty yards he said, " It isn't Swift ; it's one 
 of the hands. I've never seen this joker before." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Tiny, and that was all. Herbert 
 had no ear for a tone.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A DEAF EAR. 
 
 The manaofer of Wallandoon was harder at 
 work that afternoon than any man on the run. 
 This was generally the case when there was 
 hard work to be done ; when there was not, 
 however, Swift had a way of making work for 
 himself. He had made his work to-day. 
 Nothing need have prevented his meeting the 
 coach himself ; but it had occurred to Swift 
 that he would be somewhat in the way at the 
 meetingr between Mr. Luttrell and his children, 
 while with regard to his own meeting with 
 Christina he felt much nervousness, which 
 night, perhaps, would partly cloak. This, 
 however, was an instinct rather than a motive. 
 Instinctively also he sought b)' violent labor 
 to expel the fever from his mind. He was 
 absurdly excited, and his energy during the 
 heat of the day was little less than insane. So 
 at any rate it seemed to the youth who was 
 helping him by looking on, while Swift covered 
 
 339
 
 340 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 in half a tank with brushwood. The tank had 
 been almost dry, but was newly filled by the 
 rains, and the partial covering was designed to 
 delay evaporation. But Swift himself would 
 execute his own design, and thought nothing 
 of standing up to his chest in the water, 
 clothed only in his wide-awake, though he was 
 the manager of the station. The young store- 
 keeper did not admire him for it, though he 
 could not help envying the manager his thick 
 arms, which were also bronzed, like the mana- 
 ger's face and neck, and in striking contrast 
 to the whiteness of his deep chest and broad 
 shoulders. There had been a change in store- 
 keepers during recent months, a change not 
 by any means for the better. 
 
 Near the tank were some brushwood yards, 
 which were certainly in need of repairs, but the 
 need was far from immediate. Swift, how- 
 ever, chose to mend up the fences that night, 
 while he happened to be on the spot, and his 
 young assistant had no choice but to watch 
 him. It was dark when at last they rode back 
 together to the station, silent, hungry, and not 
 pleased with one another ; for Swift was one 
 of those energetic people whom it is difficult 
 to help unless you are energetic yourself ; and
 
 A DEAF EAR. 341 
 
 the new storekeeper was not. This youth did 
 little for his rations that day until the home- 
 stead was reached. Then the manager left 
 him to unsaddle and feed both horses, and 
 himself walked over to the veranda, whence 
 came the sound of voices. 
 
 Mr. Luttrell was lying in the long deck 
 chair which had been procured from a neigh- 
 boring station, and Herbert was smoking 
 demurely at his side. Christina was not there 
 at all. 
 
 " You will find her in the dining room," 
 Mr. Luttrell said, as his son and the manager 
 shook hands. " She has gone to make tea for 
 you ; she means to look after us all for the 
 next few weeks." 
 
 The dining room was at the back of the 
 house, and as Swift walked round to it he 
 stepped from the veranda into the heavy sand 
 in which the homestead was planted. He 
 could not help it. His love had grown upon 
 him since that short week with her, nine 
 months before. He felt that if his eyes rested 
 upon her first he could take her hand more 
 steadily. So he stood and watched her a 
 moment as she bent over the tea table with 
 lowered head and busy fingers, and there was
 
 342 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 something so like his dreams in the sight of 
 her there that he almost cried out aloud. 
 Next instant his spurs jingled in the veranda. 
 She raised her head with a jerk ; he saw the 
 fear of himself in her eyes — and knew. 
 
 It did not blind him to her haggard looks. 
 
 When they had shaken hands he could not 
 help saying, " It is evident that the old 
 country doesn't agree v/ith you, as you 
 feared." And when it was too late he would 
 have altered the remark. 
 
 '■ Seeing that it's six weeks since I left it, 
 and that I have been traveling night and day 
 since .1 landed, you are rather hard on the 
 old country." 
 
 So she answered him, her fingers in the tea 
 caddy, and her eyes with them. The lamp- 
 light shone upon her freckles as Swift studied 
 her anxiously. Perhaps, as she hinted, she 
 was only tired. 
 
 " I say, I can't have you making tea for 
 me! "Swift exclaimed nervously. "You are 
 worn out, and I am accustomed to doing all 
 this sort of thing for myself." 
 
 " Then you will have the kindness to unac- 
 custom yourself ! I am mistress here until 
 papa is fit to be moved."
 
 A DEAF EAR. 343 
 
 And not a day longer. He knew it by the 
 way she avoided his eyes. Yet he was forced 
 to make conversation. 
 
 "Why do you warm the teapot?" 
 
 " It is the proper thing to do." 
 
 " I never knew that ! " 
 
 " I dare say it isn't the only thing you 
 never knew. I shouldn't wonder if you swal- 
 lowed your coffee with cold milk?" 
 
 " Of course we do — when we have coffee." 
 
 " Ah, it is good for you to have a house- 
 keeper for a time," said Christina cruelly, she 
 did not know why. 
 
 " It's my firm belief," remarked Swift, "that 
 you have learnt these dodges in England, 
 and that you did not detest the whole thing !" 
 
 The words had a far-away familiar sound to 
 Christina, and they were spoken in the pointed 
 accents with which one quotes. 
 
 " Did I say I should detest the whole 
 thing?" asked Christina, marking the table- 
 cloth with a fork. 
 
 " You did ; they were your very words." 
 
 "Come, I don't believe that." 
 
 " I can't help it ; those were your words. 
 Thev were vour very last words to me." 
 
 * rf ^ 
 
 " And you actually remember them ? "
 
 344 TINY lUTTHELL, 
 
 She looked at him, smiling ; but his face put 
 out her smile, and the wave of compassion 
 which now swept over hers confirmed the 
 knowledge that had come to him with her first 
 frigfhtened orlancc. 
 
 The storekeeper, who came In before more 
 was said, was the unconscious witness of a well- 
 acted interlude of which he was also the cause. 
 He approved of Miss Luttrell at tlie tea tray, 
 and was to some extent recompensed for the 
 hard day's work he had not done. He left her 
 with Swift on the back veranda, and they 
 might have been grateful to him, for not only 
 had his advent been a boon to them both at a 
 very awkward moment, but, in going, he sup- 
 plied them with a topic. 
 
 " What has happened to my little English- 
 man ? " Christina asked at once. " I hoped to 
 find him here still." 
 
 " I wish you had. He was a fine fellow, and 
 this one is not." 
 
 " Then you didn't mean to get rid of my 
 little friend ? " 
 
 " No. It's a very pretty story," Swift said 
 slowly, as he watched her in the starlight. 
 " His father died, and he went home and came 
 in for something ; and now that little chap is
 
 A DEAF EAR. 345 
 
 actually married to the girl he used to talk 
 about ! " 
 
 Tiny was silent for some moments. Then 
 she laughed. 
 
 *' So much for my advice ! His case is the 
 exception that proves my rule." 
 
 " I happen to remember your advice. So 
 you still think the same ?" 
 
 " Most certainly I do." 
 
 He laughed sardonically. "You might just 
 as well tell me outright that you are engaged 
 to be married." 
 
 The girl recoiled. 
 
 " How do you know ?" she cried. "Who 
 has told you ?" 
 
 " You have — now. Your eyes told me 
 twenty minutes ago." 
 
 " But it isn't true ! Nobody knows any- 
 thing about it ! It isn't a real engagement 
 yet ! " 
 
 " I have no doubt it will be real enouo-h for 
 
 o 
 
 me," answered Swift very bitterly ; and he 
 moved away from her, though her little hands 
 were stretched out to keep him. 
 
 " Don't leave me ! " she cried piteously. " I 
 want to tell you. I will tell you now, if you 
 will only let me,"
 
 34^ riNY LUTTRELL. 
 
 He faced about, with one foot on the 
 veranda and the other in the sand. 
 
 " Tell me," he said, " if it is that old affair 
 come right ; that is all I care to know." 
 
 " It is ; but it hasn't come right yet — per- 
 haps it never will. If only you would let me 
 tell you everything ! " 
 
 "Thank you; I dare say I can imagine 
 how matters stand. I think I told you it 
 would all come right. I am very glad it has." 
 
 "Jack!" 
 
 But Jack was gone. In the starlight she 
 watched him disappear among the pines. He 
 walked so slowly that she fancied him whis- 
 tling, and would have given very much for 
 some such sign of outward indifference to 
 show that he cared ; but no sound came to her 
 save the chirrup of the crickets, which never 
 ceased in the night time at Wallandoon. And 
 that made her listen for the champing of the 
 solitary animal in the horse yard, until she 
 heard it, too, and stood still to listen to both 
 noises of the night. She remembered how 
 once or twice in England she had seemed to 
 hear these two sounds, and how she had 
 longed to be back again in the old veranda. 
 Now she was back. This was the old, old
 
 A DEAF EAR. 347 
 
 veranda. And those two old sounds were 
 beating into her brain in very reality — with- 
 out pause or pity. 
 
 "Why, Tiny," said Herbert later, "this is 
 the second time to-day ! I believe you can 
 sleep on end like a blooming native-compan- 
 ion. You're to come and talk to the gov- 
 ernor ; he would like you to sit with him be- 
 fore we carry him into his room." 
 
 "Would he?" Tiny cried out, and a mo- 
 ment later she was kneeling by the deck chair 
 and sobbing wildly on her father's breast. 
 
 "Just because I told her she'd dish herself," 
 remarked Herbert, looking on with irritation, 
 " she's been and gone and done it. That's 
 still her line !"
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 SUMMUM BONUM. 
 
 For a month Christina declined to leave 
 her father's side, much against his will, but the 
 girl's will was stronger. She was as though 
 tethered to the lonor deck chair until the lame 
 man became able to leave it on two sticks. 
 Then she flew to the other extreme. 
 
 North of the Lachlan the recent rains had 
 been less heavy than in Lower Riverina. On 
 Wallandoon less than two inches had fallen, 
 and by February it was found necessary to 
 resume work at the eieht-mile whim. But the 
 whim driver had eone ofT with his check when 
 the rain gave him a holiday, and he had never 
 returned. There was a momentary difficulty 
 in finding a man to replace him, and it was 
 tlien that Miss Tiny startled the station by 
 herself volunteering for the post. At first Mr. 
 Luttrell would not hear of the plan, but the 
 manager's opinion was not asked, and he care- 
 fully refrained from giving it, while Herbert 
 
 348
 
 SUMMUM BONUM. 349 
 
 (who was about to be intrusted with a mob of 
 wethers for the Melbourne market) took his 
 sister's side. He pointed out with truth that 
 any fool could drive a whim under ordinary 
 circumstances, and that, as Tiny would hardly 
 petition to sleep at the whim, the long ride 
 morning and evening would do her no harm. 
 Mr. Luttrell orave in then. He had tried in 
 vain to drive the young girl from his side. 
 She had watched over him with increasing 
 solicitude, with an almost unnatural tender- 
 ness. She had shown him a warmer heart 
 than heretofore he had known her to possess, 
 and an amount of love and affection which he 
 felt to be more than a father's share. He did 
 not know what was the matter, but he made 
 guesses. It had been his lifelong practice not 
 to " interfere " v/ith his children ; hence the 
 earliest misdeeds of his daughter Tiny ; hence, 
 also, the academic career of his son Herbert. - 
 Mr. Luttrell put no questions to the girl, and 
 none concerning her to her brother, which was 
 nice of him, seeing that her ways had made 
 him privately inquisitive ; but he took Her- 
 bert's advice and let Christina drive the 
 eight-mile whim. 
 
 The experiment proved a complete success,
 
 35° TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 but then plain whim driving is not difficult. 
 Christina spent an hour or so two or three 
 times a day in driving the whim horse round 
 and round until the tank was full, after which 
 it was no trouble to keep the troughs properly- 
 supplied. The rest of her time she occupied 
 in reading or musing in the shadow of the 
 tank ; but each day she boiled her " billy " in 
 the hut, eating very heartily in her seclusion, 
 and delighting more and more in the tempo- 
 rary freedom of her existence, as a boy in hol- 
 idays that are drawing to an end. The whim 
 stood high on a plain, the wind whistled 
 through its timbers, and each evening the girl 
 brought back to the homestead a higher color 
 and a lighter step. In these days, however, 
 very little was seen of her. She would come 
 in tired, and soon secrete herself within four 
 newspapered walls ; and she went out of her 
 way to discourage visitors at the whim. Of 
 this she made such a point that the manager, 
 on coming in earlier than usual one afternoon, 
 was surprised v/hen Herbert, whom he met 
 riding out from the station, informed him that 
 he was on his way to the eight-mile to look up 
 the whim driver. Herbert seemed to have 
 something on his mind, and presently he told
 
 SUM MUM BONUM. 351 
 
 Swift what it was. He had awkward news for 
 Tiny, which he had decided to tell her at once 
 and be done with it. But he did not like the 
 job. He liked it so little that he went the 
 length of confiding in Swift as to the nature 
 of the news. The manager annoyed him — he 
 had not a remark to make. 
 
 Herbert rode moodily on his way. He was 
 sorry that he had spoken to Swift (whose 
 stolid demeanor was a surprise to him, as well 
 as an irritation) ; he had undoubtedly spoken 
 too freely. With Swift still in his thoughts, 
 Luttrell was within a mile of the whim, and 
 cantering gently, before he became aware that 
 another rider was overtaking him at a gallop ; 
 and as he turned in his saddle, the manager 
 himself bore down upon him with a strange 
 look in his good eyes. 
 
 " I want you to let me — tell Tiny ! " Jack 
 Swift said hoarsely, as Herbert stared. Jack's 
 was a look of pure appeal. 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " Yes You understand ? " 
 
 " That's all riglit ! I thought I couldn't have 
 been mistaken," said Herbert, still looking him 
 in the eyes. " By ghost. Jack, you're a 
 sportsman ! "
 
 352 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 He held out his hand, and Swift gripped it. 
 In another minute they were a quarter of a 
 mile apart ; but it was Swift who was riding 
 on tp the whim, very slowly now, and with his 
 eyes on the black timbers rising clear of the 
 sand against the sky. He could never look at 
 them without hearing words and tones that it 
 was still bitter to remember ; and now he was 
 going — to break bad news to Tiny ? That 
 was his undertaking. 
 
 He found the whim driver with her book in 
 the shadow of the tank. 
 
 " Good-afternoon," Christina said very civ- 
 illy, though her eyebrows had arched at the 
 sight of him. " Have you come to see 
 whether the troughs are full, or am I wanted 
 at the homestead ? " 
 
 " Neither," said Swift, smiling ; " only the 
 mail is in, and there are letters from Eng- 
 land." 
 
 " How good of you!" exclaimed the girl, 
 holding out her hand. 
 
 Swift was embarrassed. 
 
 " Now you will pitch into me ! I haven't 
 seen the letters, and I don't know whether there 
 is one for you : but I met Herbert, and he 
 told me he had heard from your sister ; and
 
 SUMMUM BONUM. 353 
 
 —and I thought you might like to hear that, 
 as I was coming this way." 
 
 " It is still good of you," said Christina 
 kindly ; and that made him honest. 
 
 ** It isn't a bit good, because I came this 
 way to speak to you about something else." 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 " Yes, because one sees so little of you now, 
 and soon you will be going. The truth is 
 something has been rankling with me ever 
 since the night you arrived — nothing you said 
 to me ; it was my own behavior to you " 
 
 " Which wasn't pretty," interrupted Tiny. 
 
 " I know it wasn't ; I have been very sorry 
 for it. When you offered to tell me about 
 your engagement I wouldn't listen. I would 
 listen now ! " 
 
 " And now I shouldn't dream of telling you 
 a word," Tiny said, staring coolly in his face ; 
 "not even if I were engaged." 
 
 " Well, it amounts to that," Swift told her 
 steadfastly, for he knew what he meant to say, 
 and was not to be deterred by the snubs and 
 worse to which he was knowingly laying him- 
 self open. 
 
 " Pray how do you know what it amounts 
 to ? "
 
 354 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " On your side, at any rate, it amounts 
 to an engagement ; for you consider yourself 
 bound." 
 
 " Upon my word ! " cried Tiny hastily. 
 " Do you mind telling me how you come to 
 know so much about my affairs?" 
 
 " I am naturally interested in them after all 
 these years." 
 
 "How very kind of you ! How interested 
 you were when I foolishly offered to tell you 
 myself! So you have been talking me over 
 with Herbert, have you?" 
 
 " We have spoken about you to-day for the 
 first time ,- that is why I'm here." 
 
 Christina was white with anger. 
 
 " And I suppose," she sneered, " that you 
 have told him things which I have forgotten, 
 and which you might have forgotten as well !" 
 
 " I don't think you do suppose that," Swift 
 said gently. " No, he merely told me about 
 your engagement." 
 
 " Then why do you want me to tell you ?" 
 
 " Because you alone can tell me what I 
 most want to know." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " 
 
 " Yes — whether you are happy ! " 
 
 She had found her temper, which enabled
 
 SUMMUM BONUM. 355 
 
 her to put a keener edge on the words, " That, 
 I should say, is not your business " ; and she 
 stared at Swift coldly where he stood, with his 
 hands behind him, looking down upon her 
 without wincing. 
 
 " I am not so sure," said he sturdily. " I loved 
 you dearly ; / could have made you happy." 
 
 " It is well you think so," was the best 
 answer she could think of for that ; and she did 
 not think of it at once. " Do you know who 
 he is?" she added later. 
 
 " Herbert told me. It seems you have 
 tampered with a splendid chance." 
 
 " I have tampered with three. I shall jump 
 at the next — if I get another." 
 
 " And if you don't ?" 
 
 Involuntarily she drew a deep breath at the 
 thought. Her head was lifted, and her blue 
 eyes wandered over the yellow distance of the 
 plains with the look of a prisoner coming back 
 into the world. 
 
 " Nobody could blame him," she said at last, 
 "and I should be rightly served." 
 
 Swift crouched in front of her, almost sitting 
 on his heels to peer into her face. 
 
 " Tiny," he suddenly cried, " you don't love 
 him one bit !"
 
 356 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 " But I think he loves me," she answered, 
 hanging her head, for he held her hand. 
 
 " Not as I do. Tiny ! Never as I have 
 done ! I have loved you all the time, and 
 never anyone but you. And you — you care 
 for me best ; I see it in your eyes ; I feel it in 
 your hand. Don't you think that you, too, 
 may have loved me all the time ? " 
 
 " If I have," she murmured, " it has been 
 without knowing it." 
 
 It was without knowing it that she trod 
 upon the truth. Their voices were trembling. 
 
 " Darling," he whispered, " this would be 
 home to you. It's the same old Wallandoon. 
 You love it, I know ; and I think — you 
 love 
 
 She snatched her hand from his, and sprang 
 to her feet. He, too, rose astounded, gazing 
 on every side to see who was coming. But 
 the plain was flecked only with straggling 
 sheep, bleating to the troughs.. His gaze 
 came back to the girl. Her straw hat sharply 
 shadowed her face like a highwayman's mask, 
 her blue eyes flashing in the midst of it, and 
 her lips below parted in passion. 
 
 "You ? I hate you ! I do consider myself 
 bound, and you would make me false — you
 
 SUM MUM BO NUM. 3^7 
 
 would tempt me through my love for the 
 bush, for this place — you coward ! " 
 
 Swift reddened, and there was roughness in 
 his answer : 
 
 " I can't stand this, even from you. I have 
 heard that all women are unfair ; you are, cer- 
 tainl)'. What you say about my tempting you 
 is nonsense. You have shown me that you 
 love me, and that you don't love the other 
 man ; you know you have. You have now to 
 show whether you have the courage of your 
 love — to give him up — to marry me." 
 
 This method must have had its attractions 
 after another's ; but it hurt, because Tiny was 
 sensitive, with all her sins. 
 
 " You have spoken very cruelly," she fal- 
 tered, delightfully forgetting how she had 
 spoken herself. " I could not marry anyone 
 who spoke to me like that ! " 
 
 " Oh, forgive me ! " he cried, covered with 
 contrition in an instant. " I am a rough brute, 
 
 but I promise " He stopped, for her head 
 
 had drooped, and she seemed to be crying. 
 He stood away from her in his shame. "Yes, 
 I am a rough brute," he repeated bitterly ; 
 "but, darling, you don't know how it roughens 
 one, bossino^ the men !"
 
 358 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 Still she hung her head, but within the 
 widened shadow of her hat he saw her red 
 mouth twitching at his clumsiness. Yet, when 
 she raised her face, her smile astonished him, 
 it was so timorous ; and the wondrous shyness 
 in her lovely eyes abashed him far more than 
 her tears. 
 
 " I dare say — I need that ! " he heard her 
 whisper in spurts. " I think I should like — 
 you — to boss — me — too." 
 
 These things and others were tersely told in 
 a letter written in the hot blast of a north wind 
 at Wallandoon, and delivered in London six 
 weeks later, damp with the rain of early April. 
 The letter arrived by the last post, and Ruth 
 read it on the sofa in her husband's den, while 
 Erskine paced up and down the room, listen- 
 ing to the sentences she read aloud, but say- 
 ing little. 
 
 " So you see," said Ruth as she put the thin 
 sheets together and replaced them in their 
 envelope, "she accepted him before she knew 
 of Lord Manister's engagement. He knew of it, 
 and had undertaken to tell her, but that was only 
 to give himself a last chance. Had she heard 
 of it first he would never have spoken again."
 
 SUMMUM BONUM. 359 
 
 " I question that," Erskine said thought- 
 fully. " He might not have spoken so soon ; 
 but his love would have proved stronger than 
 his pride in the end. Yet I like him for his 
 pride. That was what she needed, and what 
 Manister lacked. It is very curious." 
 
 "■ I wonder if you really would like him," 
 said Ruth, who no longer cared for the sound 
 of Lord Manister'sname. " I don't remember 
 much about him, except that we ail thought a 
 good deal of him ; but somehow I don't fancy 
 he's your sort." 
 
 " I wasn't aware that I had a sort," Erskine 
 said, smiling. 
 
 " Oh, but you have. / am not your sort. 
 But Tiny was ! " 
 
 He laughed heartily. 
 
 " Then we four have chosen sides most 
 excellently ! It is quite fatal to marry your 
 own sort. Didn't you know that, my dear?" 
 
 " No, I didn't," said Ruth, watching him 
 from the sofa; "but I am very glad to hear it, 
 and I quite agree. You and Tiny, for instance, 
 would have jeered at" everything in life until 
 you were left jeering at one another. Don't 
 you think so ? " she added wistfully, after a 
 pause.
 
 36o TIMY LUfTRELL. 
 
 " I think you're an uncommonly shrewd 
 little person," Erskine remarked, smiling down 
 upon her kindly, so that her face shone with 
 pleasure. 
 
 "Do you ?" she said, as he helped her to 
 rise. " You used to think me so dense when 
 Tiny was here ; and I dare say I was — beside 
 1 my. 
 
 " My dearest girl," said Erskine, taking his 
 wife in ,his arms, and speaking in a troubled 
 tone, "you have never said that sort of thing 
 before, and I hope you never will again. Tiny 
 was Tiny — our Tiny — but surely wisdom was 
 not her strongest point ? She amused us all 
 because she wasn't quite like other people ; 
 but how often am I to tell you that I am thank- 
 ful you are not like Tiny ? " 
 
 "Ah, if you really were !" Ruth whispered 
 on his shoulder. 
 
 " But I always was," he answered, kissing 
 her ; and they smiled at one another until the 
 door was shut and Ruth had gone, for there 
 was now between them an exceeding tender- 
 ness. 
 
 Ruth had left him her letter, so that he 
 might read it for himself ; but though he lit a 
 pipe and sat down, it was some time before
 
 SUM MUM BONUM. 3^1 
 
 Erskine read anything. Had Ruth returned 
 and asked him for his thoughts, he would have 
 confessed that he was wondering whether 
 Tiny's husband would understand the girl he 
 had managed to tame ; and whether he had a 
 fine ear for a joke. As wondering would not 
 tell him, he at length turned to the letter ; 
 and that did not tell him either ; but before he 
 turned the first of the many leaves, it was as 
 thouofh the child herself was beside him in the 
 room. 
 
 The qualities she mentioned in her beloved 
 were all of a serious character, and the praises 
 she bestowed upon him, at her own expense, 
 were a little tiresome to one who did not know 
 the man. Erskine turned over with excusable 
 impatience, and was rewarded on the next 
 page by a sufficiently just summary of Lord 
 Manister ; even here, however, Tiny took 
 occasion to be very hard on herself. She 
 declared — possibly 5ihe would have said it in 
 any case, but it happened to be true — that she 
 had never loved Lord Manister. On the way 
 she had ill-used him she harped no more ; his 
 own solution of his difficulties had, indeed, 
 broken that string. But she spoke of her 
 " temptation " (incidentally remarking that the
 
 362 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 hall windows haunted her still), and said she 
 would perhaps have yielded to it outright but 
 for her visit to Wallandoon before sailing for 
 Enofland : and that she would certainly have 
 done so at the third asking had it not been 
 for that stronger temptation to go back with 
 Herbert to Australia. As it was, she had gone 
 back fully determined to marry Lord Manister 
 in the end. And if that decision had been 
 furthered to the smallest extent by any sort of 
 consideration for another, she did not say so ; 
 neither did she seek to defend her own behav- 
 ior at any point, for this was not Tiny's way. 
 However, with Jack she had burned to justify 
 herself, because love puts an end to one's 
 ways. She had longed to tell him everything 
 with her own lips, and to have him forgive 
 and excuse her on the spot. This she admitted. 
 But she denied having known what her unrea- 
 sonable longing really was. Did Ruth remem- 
 ber the " burning of the boats" at Cintra ? 
 Well, she had spoken the truth about Jack 
 then ; she had never " known " until the night 
 of her last arrival at the station ; she had never 
 been quite miserable until the succeeding days. 
 Reverting to Manister, she supposed the dis- 
 covery of her departure the day after their
 
 SUMMUM BONUM. Z(>Z 
 
 interview — in which she had studiously re- 
 frained from revealing its imminence — had 
 proved the last straw with him ; she added 
 that such a result had been vaguely in her 
 mind at the time, but that she had never really 
 admitted it among her hopes. Yet it seemed 
 she had cured him just when she gave him up 
 for incurable — and how thankful she was ! 
 A well-felt word about Lord Manister's future 
 happiness and so on led her to her own ; and 
 Erskine slid his eye over that, but had it 
 arrested by a loving little description of the 
 old home to which she was coming back for 
 good. It was a hot wind as she wrote, and the 
 beginning of a word dried before she got to 
 the end of it- — so she afifirmed. The roof was 
 cracklinof and the shadows in the yard were 
 like tanks of ink. Out on the run the salt- 
 bush still looked healthy after the rains. She 
 had given up whim driving ; the manager had 
 put in his word. But she was taking long 
 rides, all by herself ; and the lonely grandeur 
 of the bush appealed to her just as it had 
 when she first came back to it nearly a year 
 ago ; and the deep sky and yellow distances 
 and dull leaves were all her eyes required ; 
 and she thought this was the one place
 
 364 TINY LUTTRELL. 
 
 in the world where it would be easy to be 
 good. 
 
 The letter came rather suddenly to its end. 
 There were some very kind words about him- 
 self, which Erskine read more than once. 
 Then he sat staring into the fire, until, by 
 some fancy's trick, the red coals turned pale 
 and took the shape of a girl's sweet face with 
 blemishes that only made it sweeter, with dark 
 hair, and generous lips, and eyes like her own 
 Australian sky. And the eyes lightened with 
 fun and with mischief, with recklessness, and 
 bitterness, and temper ; and in each light they 
 were more lovable than before ; but last of all 
 they beamed clear and tranquil as the blue sea 
 becalmed ; and in their depths there shone a 
 soul. 
 
 THE END.
 
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