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I stepped into the dressing-room for a moment stepped out for another walked home, after a nod with Dennis, and tying the horse to a pump and while I walked home, Mr. Frederic Ingham, my double, stepped in through the library into the Gorges's grand saloon. Oh! Polly died of laughing as she told me of it at midnight!

"Too muchee tickle him burst," said Alfonso. I had heard this decidedly nasty story just before the pilot's departure, and it was now the culmination of all the foolish thoughts that gibbered in my head. I couldn't help thinking of it as I held my breath to suppress my laughter, and quaked for the yet more volatile Dennis. Oh, dear! Why wouldn't that mass of absurdity walk quicker?

She looked inquiringly at Pixie, but Pixie and Dennis were in silent convulsions of enjoyment, and only waited until the riders were out of hearing before exploding into peals of laughter. "That bates all for the cleverness of her!

"Would it be that stranger lad?" queried Dennis, anxiously. "Nay, he bes safe enough," said Mary. "But hark to that, now! There bes a whole crew up yonder." The skipper opened Cornelius Lynch's door, but not with his foot as he had formerly intended. "Turn out an' git yer guns, men. There bes trouble a-foot," he said, quietly.

There was a moment's pause, as she declined Champagne. "I am very glad you liked it," said Dennis again, which he never should have said, but to one who complimented a sermon. "Oh! you are so sharp, Mr. Ingham! No! I never drink any wine at all, except sometimes in summer a little currant spirits, from our own currants, you know.

Mabel Farrar was smartly dressed. Roy Dennis looked the rich, idle society man that he was. Moneyed friends were always the most useful in Mr. Holt's opinion, he therefore turned to Miss Farrar with, "I shall be only too pleased to accompany you." "You'll excuse me," he turned condescendingly to Madge and Phil, "but Mrs. Curtis's friends wish me to have tea with them."

The prospect of having to address that forbidding ensemble was disheartening. Suddenly his reflections were interrupted. The proprietor waved a beckoning hand to him. Dennis hurried to the desk. "A letter for you," said the proprietor, as he placed in the young man's hand an envelope addressed in a handwriting which he recognized at once.

"Then why not stick together?" cried Dennis. "Make your way up to Halifax with us, Alister dear. Maybe you'll find your cousin at home this time, and if not, at the worst, there's the captain of our old ship promised ye employment. Who knows but we'll all go home in her together? Ah, let's keep the Shamrock whole if we can."

She at once stretched the canvas on a frame for a small picture, and placed it on an easel, that she might commence with dawn of day. During the following weeks she worked scarcely less earnestly and patiently than Dennis. The door was locked when she painted, and before she left the studio the picture was hidden.

She went regularly through the building, examining closely every part and space, sometimes sketching a few outlines in a little gilt book. Apparently she was seeking by her taste to make the show-rooms pictures in themselves, wherein all the parts should blend harmoniously, and create one beautiful effect. Dennis saw what was coming.