ers as if you were going to move away for
good and all and never coming back? And do you know that you haven't
been near me for a whole week? What do you mean by breaking my heart?
Thank you, Mr. Willits; put the stool right here, so I can look up
into Mr. Horn's eyes as Uncle George wants me to. I've known the
time, sir"--and she arched her brows at St. George--"when you would
be delighted to have me look my prettiest at you, but now before I am
halfway across the park you slip out of the basement door to avoid me
and--No!--no--no apologies--you are just tired of me!"

St. George laughed gayly in return, his palms flattened against each
other and held out in supplication; but he made no defence. He was
studying the couple, his mind on the bearing and manner of the young
man toward the woman he was pursuing so relentlessly. He saw that he had
completely regained his health, his clear eyes and ruddy skin and the
spring with which he moved denoting a man in perfect physical condition.
He discovered, too, that he was extremely well dressed and his costume
all that it should be--especially the plum-colored coat, which fitted
his shoulders to perfection; his linen of the whitest and finest, each
ruffle in flutes; the waist-coat embroidered in silk; the pumps of
the proper shape and the stockings all that could be desired--except
perhaps--and a grim smile crossed his face--that the silk scarf was a
shade out of key with the prevailing color of his make-up, particularly
his hair; but, then, that was to be expected of a man who had a slight
flaw in his ancestry. He wondered if she had noticed it and studied her
face for an answer. No! She had not noticed it. In fact there were very
many things she was overlooking in these last days of his wooing, he
thought to himself.

Suddenly he became occupied with Kate's beauty. He thought he had never
seen her so bewitching or in such good spirits. From his six feet and
an inch of vantage his eyes followed her sloping shoulders and tapering
arms and rested on her laughing, happy face--rose-colored in the soft
light of the candles--a film of lace looped at her elbows, her wonderful
hair caught in a coil at the back: not the prevailing fashion but one
most becoming to her. What had not this admixture of Scotch and Virginia
blood--this intermingling of robust independence with the gentle,
yielding feminine qualities of the Southern-born woman--done for this
girl?

Richard clapped his hand