the answer. "It will mean Covent Garden if it
depends on that," Dermott said.

"Thank you," she replied; and in the conventionality of the response she
realized anew that the jesting-time was by between them and she had a
man to reckon with.

"To-morrow," he said, "Josef has written me that, with your permission,
I may hear you sing. Have I that permission, Katrine?"

"You have," she answered, noting the handsome line of the bent head and
shoulders.

"To-morrow at two?"

"To-morrow at two. And then," said Katrine, "you will see for yourself
what I've been doing, so there's no use discussing it, is there? Tell me
of yourself and Barney. Does the newspaper work go well?"

"He's doing splendidly. He's more than making good."

"And the land you purchased in North Carolina! Do the eagles flourish on
it?" she inquired.

"Not yet. But there's excellent clay there, and I've turned it into a
brick factory for the present. The truth is, I needn't have bought that
land. I suppose you've heard of the new railroad through Ravenel?" he
asked.

"Something," she said, "but not definitely."

"They're building it on the other side from the 'Eagle Tract,'" he
explained, smiling at the words. "Mr. Ravenel is practically putting the
thing through himself. Do you know, Katrine," he continued, "I think I
have underrated Ravenel. Sometimes in the last year, when I've seen him
clearing obstacles from his path," and the way Dermott knew how to
belittle a rival was plainly shown in the pitying tone he used here,
"I've almost admired him. I have sometimes thought if circumstances had
been different he might have even been something of a man."

But Katrine's utter honesty was a thing Dermott had not calculated upon.
"Dermott," she said, "I have always tried to be frank with you, haven't
I?"

"And at times," he broke in, with a smile, "have succeeded
discouragingly well."

"I want to be so still. Madame de Nemours has told me the story of
Ravenel."

McDermott waited, serene, inspiredly silent.

"But," Katrine went on, "I was a bit prepared for it. Almost the last
thing father said to me before he died was that you were planning
trouble for Mr. Ravenel."

McDermott waited still, but with a sterner look upon his keen and ardent
face.

"Madame de Nemours has told me you need only a paper and a certain
witness at Tours to carry out your purpose. Is it true?"

"It is."

"And that purpose is--" She hesitated.

"To see justice