memory," she added. "Come along, which of you isn't too
hungry to see me home?"

Neither was, and they both saw her safely to the door of the Seaton
Court vestibule; and as she rehearsed the church call once more by the
way, she quite forgot to ask Charles Stuart how his name happened to be
mixed up with it.

Her eyes were still sparkling with fun, as she ran up the stairs and
swept into Mrs. Jarvis's sitting-room.

"At last!" cried that lady looking up with a pleased smile, and at the
same moment a tall man arose from a seat near the fire. He was a very
fine-looking gentleman, faultlessly dressed and slightly pompous in
manner. A certain stoutness of figure and thinness of hair told that
he had passed his youth. He had, moreover, the air of a man who has
reached a high rung on the ladder of success.

Mrs. Jarvis stretched out her hand and drew Elizabeth forward, the girl
could not help noticing that she seemed pleasurably excited.

"Come, Beth, here is an old acquaintance. This is Mr. Huntley, Miss
Gordon."

Mr. Huntley advanced with a look of genuine pleasure on his rather
round face.

"Ah," he said, with a most flattering accent. "I am charmed to be
presented once more to Queen Elizabeth."

CHAPTER XV

WHAT OF THE NIGHT?

Since that day in Cheemaun when Elizabeth had met Mrs. Jarvis, and
unconsciously stumbled upon what Miss Gordon deemed her fortune, the
girl had enjoyed her aunt's highest approval. She had made several
holiday visits to the old home, and each time Miss Gordon had noted new
signs of improvement. And now that Elizabeth had further distinguished
herself by writing a poem, Miss Gordon's approbation broke out in an
affectionate letter, that warmed the girl's love-craving heart.

The Gay Gordons, each after his own fashion, expressed his views of
this new development of the wild streak, producing all sorts of
opinions from Mr. Gordon, who memorized the pretty verses and hummed
them over at his work and to Jean, who, while confessing that the
little rhyme had no literary value, declared herself exceedingly glad
that Lizzie was about to do something.

Mrs. Jarvis was the most highly pleased, and to add further to her joy,
sent a copy of the _Dominion_ containing the poem to her niece in
Cheemaun. The Olivers had not been on the best of terms with their
aunt since Madeline had been superseded by an interloper, and Mrs.
Jarvis was not above enjoying her niece's chagrin.

Eliz