t had meant anything! This fete was to
be the scene of her triumph. She meant to brandish Druro as a
trophy--fastening him publicly to the wheels of her chariot. Strangely
enough, what Gay dreaded still more was that Druro would not turn up at
all. She felt a miserable foreboding about the gang at Glendora. And
it was based on good grounds. They had once lured her brother Derry
out to that camp, and what he had told her of his experiences there had
left her with a wholesome dread and detestation of the Australians.
"I wonder I got out with my skin," said Derry. "They rooked me right
and left. There isn't a finer set of sharpers outside of Mexico
City--and the whole gang ready to eat you up alive if you show by the
twitch of an eyelash that you are 'on' to them. There's one pirate
there--Capperne--who's worse than all the rest. Nothing can beat him.
You know he's sharping you all the time, but he's so slick you can
never catch him out. And it wouldn't be wise to, either."
These were the men that Druro had gone out to play poker with--Lundi
Druro, with his love of fair play and easily roused temper and
carelessness of consequences. It was a heavy and apprehensive heart
that the girl hooked up inside her ball gown.
The "Falcon" was a fairy-land of softly shaded lights and flowers of
every shade of yellow and gold. Few flowers except those of the
hardiest kinds could be got in any quantity at Wankelo, so Mrs. Hading
had cleverly decided to use only those of one colour, choosing
sunflowers, marigolds, and all the little yellow children of the Zinnia
family. These, mingled with the tender green of maidenhair fern, of
which quantities had been obtained from Selukine, massed against walls
draped with green, made an exquisite setting for her entertainment and
her own beauty. She glided here and there among the amber lights,
welcoming her guests and setting them at the little green-clad card
tables, a diaphanous vision of gold-and-orange chiffons, her perfect
neck and shoulders ablaze with diamonds, and her little flat-coiffed
black head, rather snakelike on its long throat, banded by a chain of
yellow topazes.
Everything blended in the picture she had made for herself, and the
picture was perfect to behold. But, unfortunately, the person whom it
had been created chiefly to impress was missing. Druro had not come.
The bridge tournament waned to an end, and the dainty and expensive
prizes were awarded; t
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