With the first inkling, however, of the nature of his visits, all her

old abhorrence of him returned with increased intensity, but her

ill-concealed aversion only furnished him with a new incentive and

spurred him to redouble his attentions.

The only opposition encountered by him that appeared in the least to

disturb his equanimity, was that of Duke, which was on all occasions

most forcibly expressed, the latter never failing to greet him with a

low growl, meeting all overtures of friendship with an ominous gleam in

his intelligent eyes and a display of ivory that made Mr. Walcott only

too willing to desist.

"Really, Miss Underwood," Walcott remarked one evening when Duke had

been more than usually demonstrative, "your pet's attentions to me are

sometimes a trifle distracting. Could you not occasionally bestow the

pleasure of his society upon some one else--Mr. Darrell, for instance? I

imagine the two might prove quite congenial to each other."

"Please remember, Mr. Walcott, you are speaking of a friend of mine,"

Kate replied, coldly.

"Mr. Darrell? I beg pardon, I meant no offence; but since he and Duke

seem to share the same unaccountable antipathy towards myself, I

naturally thought there would be a bond of sympathy between them."

Kate had been playing, and was still seated at the piano, idly waiting

for Walcott, who was turning the pages of a new music-book, to make

another selection. She now rose rather wearily, and, leaving the piano,

joined her father and aunt upon the veranda outside.

Walcott pushed the music from him, and, taking Kate's mandolin from off

the piano, followed. Throwing himself down upon the steps at Kate's feet

in an attitude of genuine Spanish abandon and grace, he said, lightly,-"Since you will not favor us further, I will see what I can do."

He possessed little technical knowledge of music, but had quite a

repertoire of songs picked up in his travels in various countries, to

which he could accompany himself upon the guitar or mandolin.

He strummed the strings carelessly for a moment, then, in a low voice,

began a Spanish love-song. There was no need of an interpreter to make

known to Kate the meaning of the song. The low, sweet cadences were full

of tender pleading, every note was tremulous with passion, while the

dark eyes holding her own seemed burning into her very soul.

But the spell of the music worked far differently from Walcott's hopes

or anticipations. Even while angry at herself for listening, Kate could

scarcely restrain the tears, for the tender love-strains brought back so

vividly the memory of those hours--so brief and fleeting--in which she

had known the pure, unalloyed joy of love, that her heart seemed near

bursting. As the last lingering notes died away, the pain was more than

she could endure, and, pleading a slight headache, she excused herself

and went to her room. Throwing herself upon the bed, she gave way to her

feelings, sobbing bitterly as she recalled the sudden, hopeless ending

of the most perfect happiness her young life had ever known. Gradually

the violence of her grief subsided and she grew more calm, but a dull

pain was at her heart, for though unwilling to admit it even to herself,

she was hurt at Darrell's absence on the occasions of Walcott's visits.




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