figures on the dusty floor with the tip of a very dainty shoe.
‘Madame has gone down the mine,’ said M. Vandeloup, politely, ‘but she desired me to say that she would be back soon, and that you were to wait here, and I was to entertain you;’ then, with a grave bow, he placed the only chair in the office at the disposal of his visitor, and leaned up against the mantelpiece in an attitude of unstudied grace. Miss Marchurst accepted his offer, and depositing her small person in the big cane chair, she took furtive glances at him, while Gaston, whose experience of women was by no means limited, looked at her coolly, in a manner which would have been rude but for the charming smile which quivered upon his lips.
Kitty Marchurst was a veritable fairy in size, and her hands and feet were exquisitely formed, while her figure had all the plumpness and roundness of a girl of seventeen – which age she was, though she really did not look more than fourteen. An innocent child-like face, two limpid blue eyes, a straight little nose, and a charming rose-lipped mouth were Kitty’s principal attractions, and her hair was really wonderful, growing all over her head in crisp golden curls. Child-like enough her face looked in repose, but with the smile came the woman – such a smile, a laughing merry expression such as the Greeks gave to Hebe. Dressed in a rough white dress trimmed with pale blue ribbons, and her golden head surmounted by a sailor hat, with a scarf of the same azure hue tied around it, Kitty looked really charming, and Vandeloup could hardly restrain himself from taking her up in his arms and kissing her, so delightfully fresh and piquant she appeared. Kitty, on her side, had examined Gaston with a woman’s quickness of taking in details, and she mentally decided he was the best-looking man she had ever seen, only she wished he would talk. Shyness was not a part of her nature, so after waiting a reasonable time for Vandeloup to commence, she determined to start herself.
‘I’m waiting to be entertained,’ she said, in a hurried voice, raising her eyes; then afraid of her own temerity, she looked down again.
Gaston smiled a little at Kitty’s outspoken remark, but remembering Madame’s injunction he rather mischievously determined to carry out her desires to the letter.
‘It is a very nice day,’ he said, gravely. Kitty looked up and laughed merrily.
‘I don’t think that’s a very original remark,’ she said coolly, producing an apple from her pocket. ‘If that’s all you’ve got to say, I hope Madame won’t be long.’
Vandeloup laughed again at her petulance, and eyed her critically as she took a bit out of the red side of the apple with her white teeth.
‘You like apples?’ he asked, very much amused by her candour.
‘Pretty well,’ returned Miss Marchurst, eyeing the fruit in a disparaging manner; ‘peaches are nicer; are Madame’s peaches ripe?’ looking anxiously at him.
‘I think they are,’ rejoined Gaston, gravely.
‘Then we’ll have some for tea,’ decided Kitty, taking another bite out of her apple.
‘I’m going to stay to tea, you know,’ she went on in a conversational tone. ‘I always stay to tea when I’m on a visit here, and then Brown – that’s our man,’ in an explanatory manner, ‘comes and fetches me home.’
‘Happy Brown!’ murmured Vandeloup, who really meant what he said.
Kitty laughed, and blushed.
‘I’ve heard all about you,’ she said, coolly, nodding to him.
‘Nothing to my disadvantage, I hope,’ anxiously.
‘Oh dear, no: rather the other way,’ returned Miss Marchurst, gaily. ‘They said you were good-looking – and so you are, very good-looking.’
Gaston bowed and laughed, rather amused at the way she spoke, for he was used to being flattered by women, though hardly in the outspoken way of this country maiden.
‘She’s been strictly brought up,’ he muttered sarcastically, ‘I can see that. Eve before the fall in all her innocence.’
‘I don’t like your eyes,’ said Miss Kitty, suddenly.
‘What’s the matter with them?’ with a quizzical glance.
‘They look wicked.’
‘Ah, then they belie the soul within,’ returned Vandeloup, seriously. ‘I assure you, I’m a very good young man.’
Then I’m sure not to like you,’ said Kitty, gravely shaking her golden head. ‘Pa’s a minister, you know, and nothing but good young men come to our house; they’re all so horrid,’ viciously, ‘I hate ‘em.’
Vandeloup laughed so much at this that Kitty rose to her feet and looked offended.
‘I don’t know what you are laughing at,’ she said, throwing her half-eaten apple out of the door; ‘but I don’t believe you’re a good young man. You look awfully bad,’ seriously. ‘Really, I don’t think I ever saw anyone look so bad.’
‘Suppose you undertake my reformation?’ suggested Vandeloup, eagerly.
‘Oh! I couldn’t; it wouldn’t be right; but,’ brightly, ‘pa will.’
‘I don’t think I’ll trouble him,’ said Gaston, hastily, who by no means relished the idea. ‘I’m too far gone to be any good.’
She was about to reply when Madame Midas entered, and Kitty flew to her with a cry of delight.
‘Why, Kitty,’ said Madame, highly pleased, ‘I am so glad to see you, my dear; but keep off, or I’ll be spoiling your dress.’
‘Yes, so you will,’ said Kitty, retreating to a safe distance; ‘what a long time you have been.’
‘Have I, dear?’ said Madame, taking off her underground dress; ‘I hope M. Vandeloup has proved a good substitute.’
‘Madame,’ answered Vandeloup, gaily, as he assisted Mrs Villiers to doff her muddy garments, ‘we have been talking about the crops and the weather.’
‘Oh, indeed,’ replied Mrs Villiers, who saw the flush on Kitty’s cheek, and by no means approved of it; ‘it must have been very entertaining.’
‘Very!’ assented Gaston, going back to his desk.
‘Come along, Kitty,’ said Madame, with a keen glance at her clerk, and taking Kitty’s arm within her own, ‘let us go to the house, and see if we can find any peaches.’
‘I hope we’ll find some big ones,’ said Kitty, gluttonously, as she danced along by the side of Mrs Villiers.
‘Temptation has been placed in my path in a very attractive form,’ said Vandeloup to himself, as he went back to those dreary columns of figures, ‘and I’m afraid that I will not be able to resist.’
When he came home to tea he found Kitty was as joyous and full of life as ever, in spite of the long hot afternoon and the restless energy with which she had been running about. Even Madame Midas felt weary and worn out by the heat of the day, and was sitting tranquilly by the window; but Kitty, with bright eyes and restless feet, followed Selina all over the house, under the pretence of helping her, an infliction which that sage spinster bore with patient resignation.
After tea it was too hot to light the lamp, and even Selina let the fire go out, while all the windows and doors were open to let the cool night wind blow in. Vandeloup sat on the verandah with McIntosh smoking cigarettes and listening to Madame, who was playing Mendelssohn’s ‘In a Gondola’, that dreamy melody full of the swing and rhythmic movement of the waves. Then to please old Archie she played ‘Auld Lang Syne’ – that tender caressing air which is one of the most pathetic and heart-stirring melodies in the world. Archie leaned forward with bowed head as the sad melody floated on the air, and his thoughts went back to the heather-clad Scottish hills. And what was this Madame was now playing, with its piercing sorrow and sad refrain? Surely ‘Farewell to Lochaber’, that bitter lament of the exile leaving bonny Scotland far behind. Vandeloup, who was not attending to the music, but thinking of Kitty, saw two big tears steal down McIntosh’s severe face, and marvelled