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Wendern, do all the women fall in love with him over here too?"

"Yes, indeed. I don't wonder," she gave a little sigh; "you Australians are terribly fascinating."

"Well, so are you English women.' He got up and looked

towards the window. "Who are those people walking about there? Isn't that his garden?" Mrs Berwick explained that the lawn beyond the little fence was for the use of the tenants in general.

"There's a smart looking girl, there on the right, walking about with a woman in blue her mother perhaps. Why, he's with them" he started forward, then checked himself. "Know who she is, marm?"

Mrs Berwick tried to hide her impatience, "Mrs and Miss Fiffer the great American heiress."

"A well-built girl and walks as if she knew how. I expect she's in love with him?"

"I don't know, Mr Parker, -perhaps she is."

"Well, he isn't in love with her, I'll bet. Some men run after women, and some men are run after. George was always run after."

"I don't wonder."

"He's a good chap, Mrs Berwick, and not afraid of anything, God, man, or devil; would look on at the burning of his own soul, or the elopement of his wife with a nigger, without turning a hair. Done himself a few bad turns and never flinched, done lots of people good turns and forgotten them the next minute. He and

I have known each other these twenty years and been the better for it. Here he comes -with the women tacked on to him."

Wendern sauntered towards the window with his companions, he almost bounded into the room when he saw Parker.

"Joe!" he exclaimed, and grasped his hand, "this is good." The two men looked at each other for a moment in silence, then Wendern turned to Mrs Berwick. "Mrs Fiffer and her daughter have come to wish you good-morning.

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They had stood outside as if waiting to be invited to enter. Mrs Fiffer, matronly, goodnatured, and, as usual, conscious of her expensive clothes; Katherine, slender and grave, in a white dress, hatless, with a red parasol shading her from the sun.

"Oh, dear Mrs Fiffer, do come in, how nice to see you," Mrs Berwick purred.

"Sure you don't object to early visitors?"

"Oh no, I like them."

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Well, it proves that you have genuine health and a real complexion." Mrs Fiffer spoke with conviction.

"I hope I have." Mrs Berwick put on her bewildered look; she had tried it before the glass several times. "And

I love the morning, it is so fresh, so full of Nature. How do you do, dear Miss Fiffer? What a beautiful parasol."

Joe Parker standing aside said to himself, "She knows the game uncommonly well."

"Is it?" Katherine answered. "I love red."

"But it's the colour of

tragedy, of dreadful battles," Mrs Berwick sighed.

"I didn't think of that-for I haven't met any tragedy yet, or been far off enough to come upon battles."

"And yet you Americans are always travelling.

"Well, you've such a lovely country to live in here, I don't wonder you stay at home," Katherine's face lighted up; and when she smiled it was beautiful. "We've been talking to Mr Wendern. There is such a good floor in his drawing-room we think he ought to give a dance."

"You must persuade him, -he'll do anything for you."

Wendern, standing near, added in a low tone, "If I'm persuaded," then louder, "But I must introduce my friend Joe Parker to you.'

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Joe Parker, remembering again the brushing of his coat in the hall, made his best bow, "From Australia, marm, and glad to make your acquaintanee."

"Well," said Mrs Fiffer, when Katherine had shaken hands and turned to Wendern, with whom she moved slowly a little aside, "it seems to me that all of us here know a good deal about long distances."

"You're from America, marm, I take it from New York?"

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"And to-morrow we are going to Brighton.'

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Mrs Fiffer heard the last words and went over to them. "Friends of ours, the LoughJohnsons-don't know if you've heard of them, Mr Wendern?are at the Norfolk Hotel and want us to go down to them for a week, but I'll be back sooner. Katherine will stay over Sunday; she wants to go to Rottingdean and see the house Burne-Jones lived in and Kipling, wasn't he there? It's wonderful how girls care for people who are talked about; their mothers remember the world long before all these writing people and picture painters were in it, and it got along very well."

"It did," said Parker, "and I believe that we could get on without most things they do. George and I remember thousands of miles with nothing on them but what sun and wind and rain put there. As for books and pictures, and all you think so much about over here, we never set eyes on them and we did well enough.'

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"It wouldn't do to let them hear you say it, Mr Parker,"

Mrs Fiffer answered triumphantly, "but there are lots of things here we're not any better for; however, we've got to have them, so it's no good making a fuss. Mr Wendern, Mrs Lough-Johnson is coming to stay with us the week after next-I would like you to meet her; she's one of my oldest friends."

"I shall be delighted, and should have been equally so if she had been one of your youngest."

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"Isn't that like a man,' she beamed; "they're all for the young ones. And now, Katherine, I think we'd better be going in; Lord Derbyshire said he would be at our house

by twelve o'clock. He's a delightful young man," she informed Parker.

"It must be delightful to him to be thought one," Wendern said.

"And he finds reasons to take him to our house pretty often." Mrs Fiffer put significance into her voice.

"I've no doubt." Katherine moved uneasily. "He's very English," she said. "Very and he is a good fellow," Wendern was speaking again. "May I walk back with you?" He threw a smile at his friend.

"You may go, George," the backwoodsman said with a comprehending nod.

"If Mr Parker doesn't mind being alone a few minutes I should so like to walk back with Mrs Fiffer," Mrs Berwick chimed in in adroitly. "She promised to tell me about the Woolwich ball." She put her arm through the elder

woman's and walked on, cooing as they went. "Soldiers are such dear brave creatures, fickle and badly - off, and, oh! so fascinating!- Parker heard her, and smiled broadly as the voices died away.

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"You didn't tell me you were going to Brighton?" Wendern said to Katherine as they crossed the lawn.

"We were talking of other things. I don't want to go one bit."

"Then why do you?"

They stood by the little gate that went into the Fiffer garden. "I don't know, I've got to " She stopped and looked up at a sycamore-tree that was by him. "There are things one has to do, just to to store one's memory; it would be a desert if one didn't."

"When are you coming

back?"

"On Tuesday, I think." She hesitated again before she added, "Lord Derbyshire is going to motor down one day."

"You seem to have adopted that young man."

"He is worried about his property. I believe it is often a worry in England. Old houses are very beautiful, but they fall to bits and need a great deal of money to keep them up."

"I daresay." The subject didn't interest him; he was thinking of something else. "Shall I come down too?

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her own threshold with Mrs Berwick, beckoned.

"Why, yes, but mother is waiting, I must go in,” Katherine answered. Something in her manner, almost an embarrassment, made him ask

Don't you want me to come to Brighton?"

"Why, yes, I want you to come. I'd love it." She said the last words softly and held out her hand. "We could talk there, we can't in London; there's too much traffic, too many noises and people. We

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CHAPTER V.

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"Who-which? " "Why, Mrs Berwick. The way she fastened on to the mother while you walked off with the girl was masterly."

"It was. She may have less virtue; I've nothing to do with that one way or the other, but she has more tact than any woman I've met with for some time; and take it altogether, tact is a better possession; it lasts longer and often goes further" The door opened. "Oh, here's Lord Derbyshire."

Parker, unused to titles, looked up quickly, and a shade of surprise passed over his face.

He had a respect for physique, and it struck him that if this was all rank and pedigree could give in the way of looks they were not up to much.

"How do, Wendern?" Derbyshire seemed disappointed at finding the room empty.

"How do you do? This is my friend, Joe Parker."

Parker had risen, evidently expecting to be formally introduced, and was making his best bow. "Good morning, sir; I'm from Australia, and glad to see you."

"I say thank you." Derbyshire was overcome by the bow. "Australia's an awfully fine country, I'm told."

"It is, and there's plenty of it; in fact, it can't be beat for size." Parker looked at him again, and seemed to be waiting for something to justify the title and probable position of the little fair man before him.

"Well, it's got more room to

stretch itself out in. You see, the Channel gets itself rather in the way over here," was the profound remark.

"I suppose you've never been over to us, sir?" Parker wondered if he ought to say "my lord," but decided quickly and obstinately that he wasn't going to do anything of the sort to this whippersnapper.

"No. Never been farther than Monte Carlo, that sort of thing-good hotels, cook well, and time always in a hurry, so that it's gone gone before you know where you are-rather a good thing, I suppose; get bored if it didn't. Awful bore getting bored, you know." Having disposed of Parker, Derbyshire turned to Wendern. "I've been over the way; they told me Mrs and Miss Fiffer were here."

"They've just gone back." "Well, if you don't mind, I'll go too. I've got a bull pup for Miss Fiffer, and should like to see it gets fair play with her Persian kitten." He nodded to the two men. "I expect you're precious glad to get out of Australia," was his parting tactful remark to Parker.

"Why didn't you let him go across by the window, George?" "There was no occasion." "Miss Fiffer's a fine girl." "Yes." Wendern's eyes turned towards the house in which she lived.

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"Got enough of your own left to match them?"

"No; but if she cares, it won't matter whether I'm rich or poor."

"It usually matters a good deal."

Wendern chafed a little, but tried not to show it.

"I'm learning to hate the stress laid on money-the importance given to it. It is overrated, till the whole world seems to turn on hands and feet of metal."

"Most people like itespecially women.

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"I know. And if I have it and she wants it, it will add to my happiness to give it her. If I haven't, she can fall back on her own; so it needn't worry me."

"You seem to be pretty sure of her," Parker said slowly.

"It is amazing if she cares; but I should insult her if I didn't think it. And I shall be done for if—" He had spoken almost to himself.

"George, you've taken it badly this time."

"I've taken it badly." Wendern changed the subject. "Let's talk of home. How did the old place look when you saw it last?”

"That's some time ago; but it looked the same as ever." "Which means, as if Heaven had annexed it."

"I wonder what made you sell it?"

"I wanted to be free, to wander about the world without the worry of possessions. But I'm longing to go back again; it's the soil from which I grew, the sky which drew

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