d on Everett's brow, bringing determination to her own. Never
before had she been forced to exercise her wish above his, and
Brimbecomb was not prepared for it. Something new had been born in the
large, sad eyes turned to his, something he did not comprehend, and he
inwardly cursed the squatter children.

At eight o'clock Everett handed Katherine into the carriage and gloomily
took his place beside her. They were late at the theater by several
minutes, when he brushed aside the curtain and ushered Miss Vandecar
into the Governor's box. Mrs. Vandecar was seated in the far corner, her
attention directed upon the play. Vandecar rose quietly, and before
resuming his seat waited until his niece had taken her place. Then they
were silent until the curtain fell after the first act.

"Where are Horace and Ann?" asked Mrs. Vandecar of Everett. "Ann
telephoned me at dinner-time that she would be here."

Everett inclined his head toward Katherine, and the girl explained the
situation. When she had added pathos to the story by telling of Flukey's
illness, Mrs. Vandecar broke in.

"I'm glad Ann stayed, dear girl! It's like her to nurse that sick
child." She said no more; but turned away with misty eyes.

During the next act the Governor drew near her, and amid the shadows of
the darkened box, took up the slender fingers and held them until the
lights flashed upon the falling curtain. Both had gone back in memory to
those dreadful days when tragedy had cast its somber shadows over them.

* * * * *

The doctor had predicted a serious illness for Flukey. Ann and Horace
held an earnest conversation about it. Miss Shellington's maid had been
instructed to relieve Flea of her boy's attire and clothe her in some of
Ann's garments. Horace led his sister to the room where Flukey lay, and
suggested that Flea be called.

A servant appeared at the touch of the bell.

"Tell the boy's sister to come here," said Horace.

When Flea knocked at the door a few minutes later, he bade her enter.
Suppressing her pleasure and surprise at the girl's loveliness, Ann
walked forward to meet her; but the little stranger backed timidly
against the door and flashed a blushing glance at the man.

The mauve dressing-gown, reaching to the floor, displayed to advantage
the girl's lithe figure, accentuating its long, graceful lines. The
bodice, opened at the neck, exposed the slender white throat, around
which the summer's s