Part 19

As his head rose over the palms he was just in time to see the blond head of the English boy and Linda's darker, bejewelled head draw close together, and their lips meet and linger. They did not see him.

Jack dropped back as if he had been shot, blushing and furious with himself. To be a peeping Tom! a thing he loathed. He silently cut across the room within the balconies, praying that they might not hear him. Wild horses would never have dragged any admission from him of what he had seen.

But when he got his breath again, as one might say, oh! but he found his heart was beating blithely! He felt as if he had burst out of a hateful chrysalis. Life was full of joy after all! A little song rang in his ear: "It's all right! It's all right!" Laughter trembled in his throat.

He waited about on the stairs for Linda to come down. She finally appeared, cool and scornful, her heels tapping on the stairs, the thing in her hair nodding and sparkling. Who would ever guess that her little Mightiness had just been kissed! The spring of laughter bubbled up inside Jack. He presented a bland face to her, but he could not hide the shine in his eyes, nor the smirk about the corners of his lip.

"What is it?" asked Linda, staring at the change in him.

"Whom have you the next dance with?"

She named a name.

"I know him," said Jack. "Wait for me upstairs, and I'll see if I can't make an exchange. I want to talk to you."

Linda's curiosity was aroused, and she went back upstairs with Lord Spurling. In five minutes Jack had rejoined her, and the two of them went out on the balcony again, in the same nook Linda had shared with the Englishman.

"Well, what is it?" she asked.

"Linda," he said, "we've done nothing but quarrel since I came. Let's cry quits!"

"It hasn't been my fault," she said, all ready for another.

"Never mind whose fault," he said. "Let's cut it out!"

"What's come over you?" she asked curiously.

"Look here," he said, "up North I promised that I'd come and claim you as soon as I cleared myself. Well, I came, and I've been here long enough to show us both that it's no go. We're not suited to each other. We only get on each other's nerves. Give me my word back again, Linda. Let's shake hands on it, and say good-bye!"

Linda started, and looked at him with big eyes. "Jack!" she murmured. "You'd desert me? You can't mean it? What would I do?"

She got no further. The great eyes, the plaintive tremulo, the threatened tears, all the old tricks after what he had just seen, struck Jack as too funny! His laughter broke its bonds. He threw back his head, and gave it way. There was nothing mocking or bitter in it; it was pure laughter from the relief of his heart. He laughed and laughed. He had had no laughter in weeks. He was obliged to lean against the window-frame and hold his ribs as at a vulgar farce.

Linda's expression graduated from amazement to pale fury. She sprang up. The jewelled aigrette fairly bristled with rage. "How dare you!" she cried. "Shut up! I hate you! You make me feel like a perfect fiend! I'd like to scratch your eyes out! Go back to your squaw! It's all you're fit for. I was going to speak to you myself. Understand, I'm throwing you over! I despise you!" She stamped her foot. "Go back to her, and be damned to you both!"

She vanished. Such was the end of that affair.

Jack went in search of Kate, and found her on a man's arm bound supperward. "Could I have a word with you urgent and private?" he whispered.

Kate looked at his happy eyes and nodded. "Front balcony, five minutes," she murmured back.

The balcony again.

"Kate, I'm off!" he cried. "This very night. In an hour I'll be pounding the North trail on Starlight. I'm so happy I can't keep the ground. If the boats have stopped running, I'll ride the whole way through. Kate, dear, you've been a powerful good friend to me. I'd like to kiss you good-bye."

"You may," she said, smiling and lifting her face.

"There!" he said. "There! and there! and there!"

"Mercy!" said Kate. "I'll have to retire to the dressing room for repairs! Good-bye, and God bless you!"

After the family had gone to bed, Mary and Davy Cranston stole back into the living-room, and quietly blowing up the fire, put on fresh sticks. They sat down before it, nursing their knees. Nowadays there was a stronger bond than ever between Mary and Davy. In that disorganized household in the winter this was the only chance they had to talk together.

"What do you suppose he's doing to-night?" said Davy.

"Who knows?" said Mary. "A party of some kind, or the theatre."

"If father had let me go out with him," said Davy, "I could have written and told you everything he did."

"Father was right," said Mary. "He'll let you go when the time comes. But that sort of thing would only unsettle you. We're not society people."

"I don't see why you're not," said Davy stoutly.

"It's too complicated to explain," she said in a level voice. "Anyway, I wouldn't like it."

"Whatever Jack does is all right, isn't it?" demanded Davy.

"He was born to it," said Mary. "That makes the difference. Besides----"

"Well?"

"I don't think he likes it either. But it's necessary for him just at present."

"I wish I could see him!" cried Davy.

Mary was silent.

"I mean to be just like him," Davy went on. "Do you think I'll ever be as strong as that?" he asked anxiously.

"It doesn't matter," said Mary, staring into the fire. "You can be as brave and honourable."

There was a knock at the front door. Brother and sister looked at each other in surprise.

"A sick Indian," said Mary.

Davy went to see. He closed the door of the room after him. Presently Mary heard a little cry, quickly smothered. Davy came in again breathless, and with shining eyes.

"There's--there's some one wants to see you!" he said shakily. "Oh, Mary!"

She ran out into the hall. The front door was open, and he stood there, broad-shouldered and bulky with much clothing, dark against the field of snow. He was bareheaded, and the moonshine was making a little halo around the edges of his curly pate. He held out his arms, and in a twinkling she was in them.

"Mary! My love!" he murmured. "I nearly went out of my mind wanting you. I've come back for you! Never to leave you again!"

Their lips met, and their tears ran together. Mary was the only woman who ever saw those hard blue eyes fill and overflow.

THE END

THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS GARDEN CITY, N.Y.