r move. He only stood still and looked at them with
vague, puzzled eyes, and lips that twitched as if he wanted to speak,
but standing so, he had the centre of the stage. He could not command
it, he had pushed his way into it doggedly, uncertain what to do first,
but he was there. One by one his audience had become conscious of it,
and were confronting him startled and uncertain, too. Young Chester
Gaynor elbowed his way to the front, but stopped there, grinning at the
invader, restrained perhaps by a lady's voice, which was to be heard
admonishing him excitedly.

"Don't you get hurt, dear."

"How did he get here? Why can't somebody get him out?" other excited
ladies inquired.

"Get Judge Saxon," directed Mr. J. Cleveland Kent's calm and
authoritative voice.

"Get Sebastian. Where is the fellow? Is he afraid?" demanded the
Honourable Joe from the extreme rear. Some one laughed hysterically. It
was Mrs. Burr. The laugh was quickly hushed, but the new guest had heard
it, though no other sound seemed to have impressed him. He laughed, too,
a dry, broken ghost of a laugh, as cracked and strange as his voice,
which he now found abruptly.

"Lillie," he called. "Hello, Lillie dear."

Mrs. Burr was not heard to reply to this affectionate greeting, but he
hardly paused for a reply. His light, high, curiously detached sounding
voice talked on with a kind of uncanny fluency.

"Lillie," he urged cordially, "I heard you. I know you're there. Come
out and let's have a look at you. I don't see anything of you lately.
You're too grand for me. I don't care. I'm in love with a prettier girl.
But you used to treat me all right, Lillie dear, and I treated you
right, too. I never told. A gentleman don't tell. And you were straight
with me. You never double-crossed me, like you and the dago Sebastian do
to Everard. Everard! That's who I want to talk to. Where is he?"

At the mention of the name his wavering gaze had steadied and
concentrated suddenly on the centre of the group in the garden, and now,
while he looked, the crowd parted. Pushing his way through, the Colonel
faced his uninvited guest.

The great man was not at his best. His most ardent admirer could hardly
have claimed it. He had pulled the muffling scarf down from his eyes,
but was still tearing at the knot impatiently. Mrs. Kent had come
fluttering ineffectively after him, catching at his arm. He struck her
hands away, and pushed her back, addressing her with a lack