ay, too,
was the very first in which it had been impossible for Harold to avoid
receiving marked preference, and the jealousy hitherto averted by
Eustace's incredible vanity had begun to awaken. Moreover, that there
had been some marked rebuff from Viola was also plain, for, as the
Arked carriage was seen coming round, and I said we must go in to the
Tracys, Eustace muttered, "Nasty little stuck-up thing; catch me making
up to her again!"

It was just as well that Harold did not hear, having, at sight of the
carriage, gone off to fetch a favourite cup, the mending of which he
had contrived for Viola at the potteries. When we came into the
drawing-room, I found Lady Diana and Mrs. Alison with their heads very
close together over some samples of Welsh wool, and Dermot lying on the
sofa, his hands clasped behind his head, and his sister hanging over
him, with her cheeks of the colour that made her beautiful.

The two elder ladies closed on Eustace directly to congratulate him on
the success of his arrangements, and Dermot jumped up from the sofa,
while Viola caught hold of my hand, and we all made for the window
which opened on the terrace. "Tell her," said Viola to her brother, as
we stood outside.

Dermot smiled, saying, "Only that Sir James thinks he has to-day seen
one of the most remarkable men he ever met in his life."

"And he has promised to help him to Prometesky's pardon," I said; while
Viola, instead of speaking, leaped up and kissed me for joy. "He is to
go to London about it."

"Yes," Dermot said. "Sir James wants him to meet some friends, who
will be glad to pick his brains about New South Wales. Hallo, Harry! I
congratulate you. You've achieved greatness."

"You've achieved a better thing," said Viola, with her eyes beaming
upon him.

"I hope so," he said in an under tone.

"I am so glad," with a whole heart in the four words.

"Thank you," he said. "This was all that was wanting."

The words must have come out in spite of himself, for he coloured up to
the roots of his hair as they ended. And Viola not only coloured too,
but the moisture sprang into her fawn-like eyes. Dermot and I looked
at each other, both knowing what it meant.

That instant Lady Diana called, and Dermot, the first of all, stooped
under the window to give his sister time, and in the little bustle to
which he amiably submitted about wraps and a glass of wine, Lady Diana
failed to look at her daughter's cheeks and eye