The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 11, 1903, Page 3

Eirl's eyes as he sald gaze was altogether too strong for her, so the lashes fell. She flushed and ;&;leit;l.vflth & smile that brought the dim- this, and his thank you: that is a real compli- ment.”” Then laughingly: *“Much better than extravagant comments on one's skin and eyes and Queen the take a walk with us, strolled away together, while the other girls followed in a whispering, laughing group. Was there ever so glorious a calm after such & storm? “Then those mythological compliments.” continued Mary, “‘don’t you dislike them? “I can’t say that I have ever received " replied Bran- ace, but e trying its have not? Well! how would somebody always telling humpbac pen compared th you; 1 would have covered, hi ut seen yours, and 8o o don’t know, but I think I should like it—from some per: " he replied, look- ing ever £o innocent This savored of familiarity brief face had after so d the light surpris for Lis innocent little troubled-wr d, as much as to sa. getting away from it, } flatters e andon t end n free t k upon. But laf nitors, one must habit of const: ve enough to confre ok them in the face, we shall be su s, “‘but what Bo often we untll we look and then it is e good more th W her saints a , b ail to tell 1 oment of our lives; the right when we and how to do it; and how to know g and how avold it. They ask us v h insist that faith right and wro think I can give you a Ithough it may not cover the is excellent for every-day his: Whatever makes others r is wrong; whatever makes the appler 18 good. As to how we are to do this, T cannot tell you. One learn that'by trying. We can but and if we fail altogether, there is still le effort toward the y bent her head as she walked along thought. hat you have sald is the only ap- proach to & rule for knowing and doing the right I have ever heard. (Now what do you think of me as a flatterer?) F will do no good: the bad In me is too it always does itself before T can or even realize what is in ehe shook her head k of trouble. . you ou. It has been put on you Dby others and is all on the outs “1 fear, Master Brandon. you are the most adrolt flatterer of ali,”’ sald Mary, shaking her head and looking up at him with a side glance. People ha me with all k of —I different eorts listed and one has ever gone to the extravagant length of calling me good. Perhaps they think I do not care for that, but I like it best. I don’t like the others at all. If I am beautiful or not, it iIs as God made me, and I have nothing to do with it and desire no cred but if I could only be good, it might be my own doing, perhaps, and I ought to hav e. I wonder if I any good in me, beled—but no p at him with a touch of co: “Or are y aughing at m let the last suggestion am right; you have for good, but, alas! bilitles for evil. ‘It will d upon the gnan you e out of you a perfect Agaln there was L expression in Mary’'s face, but Brandon’s serious look disarmed her. ““] fear you are right, as to the reverse, at any rate: and the worst of it is, I shall never be able to choose a man to help me, but shall sooner or later be compelled to ¢ the creature who will pay the * #ald Brandon reverently. were growing rather serious, So urned the conversation again iInto g mood and sald, with a half ‘Oh! T hope you are right about possiblilities for good, but you do not know. Walt until you have seen more of me “I certainly hope I shall not have long to_wait.” The surprised eyes again glanced quick- ly up to the serious face, but the answer came: “That you shall not—but here is the Queen. and I suppose we must have the benediction” Brandon understood her hint—that the preaching was over— and taking it for his dismissal, playfully lifted his hands in imitation of the old Bishop of Canterbury and murmured the first line of the Latin benediction. Then they both laughed and courtesied and Brandon walked awa. CHAPTER 1IV. A LESSON IN DANCING. I laughed heartily when Jane told me of the tilt between Brandon and Princess Mary, the latter of whom was in the habit of saying unkind things and being thanked for them. Brandon was the wron them to, as Mary learned. He was not hot-tempered: in fact, just the reverse, but he was the last man to brook an af- front and the quickest to resent, in a cool-headed, dangerous way, an inten- tional offense. He respected himself and made others do the same, or seem to do so, at least He had no vanity—which 1s but an Inordi- e deeire for those qualities that bring self-respect, and often the result of con- Scious demerit—but he knew himself, and knew that he was entitled to his own good opinfon. He was every inch a man, strong, intelligent and brave to temerity, with a reckless disregard of consequences which might have been dangerous had it not been tempered by a dash of prudence and caution that gave him ballast. 1 was not surprised when 1 heard of the encounter; for I _knew enough of him to be eure 'that Mary's high-handedness would meet its counterpart in my cool friend Brandon. It was, however, &n un- fortunate victory, and what all Mary’'s man to say beauty and brightness would have failed to do, her honest, open acknowledgment of wrong, following so quickly upon the heels of her fault, accomplished easily. It drew him within the circle of her fatal . and when Jane told me of it his fate was sealed, and that sooner or later, his untouched heart and cool head would fall vietim to the shafts that so surely winged all others. t miht, and probably would, e Jater,” since, as Brandon had sald, he s not one of those who wore his heart n his sleeve. Then he had that strong n dence and caution, which, in ary’s unattainableness, would bly come to his help. But never was art strong enough to resist Mary e for long. this difference between Bran- ost others; he would be slow to e when love should once falrly : root in his intense nature he would do to trifie with. : night after the meeting Mary cud. p to Jane who siept with her, and pered, half bashfully: I'ell me all about Brandon; I am inter- ested in_him. I believe if I knew more persons like him I should be a better girl, notwithstanding he is one of the boldest men I ever knew. He says anything he wishes, and, with all his modest manner, is as cool with me as if 1 were a burgh- er's daughter. His modesty is all on the outside, but it 1s pretty, and pretty ihings be on the outside to be useful. wonder if Judson thought him modest?”’ Jane talked of Brandon to Mary, who was in an excellent humor, untll the girls fell asleep. When Jane told me of this I became frightened; for the surest way to any wo- man’s heart is to convince her that you make her better and arouse in her breast purer impulses and higher aspirations. It wouid be bad enough should Brandon fall in love with the Princess, which was al- most sure to happen, but for them to fall in love with each other meant Brandon's head upon the block, and Mary’'s heart bruised, broken and empty for iife. Her rong nature, filled to the brim with lat- nt passion, was the stuff of which love a conflagration that burns to de- n, and should she learn to love don ‘she would move heaven and h to possess him. She whose every desire from childhood up had been gratified, whose every whim d to her a paramount necessity, d stop at nothing when the dearest wish a woman's heart can coin was to be but little when set against woman's daring. In case they should love they were sure to try for each other, and In trying were equally sure to find ruin and desolation. A few evenings after this Princess in the Quee drawing-room. e beckoned me to her, and resting her top of a cabinet. her chin eaid: “I met your friend, " 1 answered; “Jane told me, but 5 not mentioned 1t.” It was/true Brandon had not sald a word of the matter, and I had not spoken of it, either. I wanted to see how long he would rex silent concerning an adven- ture that would have set most men of the court be ng away at a great rate. To have a tilt with the ever-victorious Mary and to come off victor was enough, T think, to loosen any tongue less given to bragging than E ’s. So,” continued N evidently some- what piqued, “he did not think his pre- sentation to me a thing worth mention- ing? We had a little passage at arms, and, to tell you the truth, I came off sec- ond best, and had to acknowledge it, too. Now what do you think of this new friend of yours? And he did not boast about having the better of me? After all there is more virtue in his silence than I at first thought.” And she threw back her head and clapped her hands and laughed with the most contagious little ripple yoif ever She seemed not to grieve over her . but dimpled as though it were a uge ioke, the thought of which rather d her than otherwise. Victory had grown stale for her, although so voung. “What do I think of my new friend?’ I repeated after her; and that gave me a theme upon which I could enlarge elo- quently. I told her of his learning, not- withstanding the fact that he had been in the cohtinental wars ever since he was a boy. 1 repeated to her storles of his dar- g and bravery, that had been told to me by his uncle, the Master of the Horse, and others, and then 1 added what I knew Lady Jane had already said. I had ex- pected to be brief, but to my surprise found a close and interested listener, even he twice-told parts, and drew my story out a little, to the liking of us both. “Your friend has an earnest advocate in Sir Edwin,” sald the Prince: fhat he ha T - 1othing too good to say of him.” 1 knew that Mary, with her better, clearer brain, held the King almost in the palm of her hand, so I thought to advance Brandon’s fortune by a timely word. “I trust the King will see fit to favor him and hope that you will speak a word his behalf should the opportunity oc- . hat in the name of heaven have we to give him?” cried Mary, impatiently, for she kept an eye on things political, even if she were only a girl—"'the Kifig bas given away everything that can be given, already, and now that the war is , the men are coming home, there are walting for more. My father’s sure is squandered, to say noth- of the money collected from Emp- son, Dudley and the other commission- ers. There is nothing to give unless it be the titles and estate of the late Duke of Suffolk. Perhaps the King will give these to your paragon, if you will paint him in as fair a light as you have drawn him for me.” Then throwing back her head with a laugh, “Ask him.™ *“It would be norle too much for his de- I replied, falling in with her hu- “‘We will so arrange it, then,” went on Mary banteringly; “Captain Brandon no longer, but Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. How sounds it, Master Casko- den?” “Sweet in my ears,” I replied. “I really belleve you would have the King's crown for him, you absurd man, It you could get it.. We must have so in- teresting a person at court; I shall at least see that he Is presented to the Queen @t once. 1 wonder if he dances; I sup- pose not. He has probably been too busy cutting and thrusting.” And she laughed again at her own pleasantry. When the mirth began to gather in her face and the dimples came responsive to her smiles: when she threw back her perfectly poised head, stretching her soft, white throat, so full and round and beau- tiful, half closing her big brown eyes till they shone again from beneath the shade of those long, black, sweeping lashes; when her red lips parted, showing her teeth of pearl, and she gave the little clap of her hands—a sort of climax to the soft, low, rippling laugh—she made a picture of fuch exquisite loveliness that it is no conder men were fools about her, and aught love as one catches a contagion. 1 had it once, as you already know, and had recovered. All that prevented a daily it e was my falr, sweet antidote, Jane, image rested in my heart, a last- & _safeguard. %1 wonder it your prodigy plays cards; that is, such as we ladles play?”’ asked N “You say he has lived much in Irance, where the game was invented, but 1 would have no doubt he would scorn to waste his time at so frivolous a pursuit, when he might be slanghtering armies single-handed and alone.” “T do not know as to his dancing and card-playing,” T replied, not liking her tone of sarcasm. She had yet to learn who Brandon was. 1 1l hazard ten crowns,” sald Mary quickly, for she loved a wager and was a born gambler. “Taken,” sald I. “We will try him on both to-morrow § * “she con- . “You bring him up. but tell no T will have Jane there with her lute, ch will not frighten you away, I know, and we will try his step. I will have P cards, too, and we shall see what he can do at'triumph. Just we four—no one else at all. You and Jane, the new Duke u_(l Suffolk and I. Oh! I can hardly wait. and she fairly danced with joyous an- ticipation. The thing had enough Irregularity to f'“ it zest, for while Mary often had a ©W young people in her drawing-room the companies were never so small as two couples only, and the King and Queen, to make e for’ greater faults, were wonder- ful sticklers in the matter of little pro- prieties. The ten-crown wager, too, gave spice to it, but to do her justice she cared very little for that. The Princess loved gam- bling purely for gambling’s sake, and with ]hor[ the next best thing to winning was osing. When I went to my room that night I awakened Brandon and told him of the distinguished honor that awaited him. “Well! T'll be"—but he did not say what he would “be.”” He always halted before an oath, unless angered, which was sel- @om, but then beware!—he had learncd to swear in Flanders. “How she did fly at me the other morning; I never was more surprised in all my life. For once I was almost caught with my guard down, and did not Know how to parry the thrust. T mumbled over some sort of lame retali- ation and beat a retreat. It was 0 un- just and uncalled for that it made me angry; but she was so graclous in her amends that I was ~'most vlad it hap- pened. T like a woman who can be as savage as the very devil when it plbasti! her; she usually has in store an assort- ment of possibllities for the other ex- treme.” 5 “She told me of your encounter.” I re- turned, ‘‘but * “ha had come off second best. and seemed to think her overthrow a hige joke. “The man :ho learns to know what a woman think$s and feels will have a great deal of valuable information,” he replled; and then turned over for sleep, greatly Vleased that one woman thought as she did. 1 was not sure he would be so highly flattered if he knew that he had been in- vited to settle a wager, and to help Mary to a little sport. As te the former, I had an interest thers myself, although 1 dared not settle the Guestion by asking Brandon if he played cerds and danced; and, as to the matter of Mary's sport, T felt there was but little. if any, danger of her having too much of it at his expense, Brandon being well able to _care for himself in that respect. The rext evening, at the appointed time, we wended our way, by an Infrequented route, and presented ourselves, as secretly as possible, at the drawing-room of the Princess. The door was opened by Lady Jane, and we met the two girls almost at the threshold. T had told Brandon of the ban- tering conversation about the title and es tates of the late Duke of Suffolk, and he laughed over it in the best of humor. If quick to retaliate for an intentional offense, he was not thin-skinned at a plece of pleasantry, and had none of that &tiff, sensitive nature, so troublesome to cne's self and friends. Now, Jane and Mary were always ban- tering me because I was short, and fnclin- ed to be—in fact—round, but I did not care. It made them laugh, and thelir laughing was so contagious 1t made me laugh, too, and we all enjoyed it. I would glve a pound sterling any time for a good lavgh; and that, I think, {s why I have always been—round. So, upon entering, I said; ‘“His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk, la- dles.” They each made a sweeping courtesy with hand on breast, and gravely salute him: “Your Grace! Good even'.” Brandon’'s bow was as deep and grace- , if that were possible, as theirs, and when he moved on into the room it was with a little halt in his step and & big blowing out of the cheeks, In ludicrous imitation of his late lamented predecessor, that sent the girls into peals of soft laughter and put us all at our ease imme- ately. Ah! what a thing it s to look back upon; that time of life when one finds his heaven in a ready laugh! “‘Be seated all,” sald the Princess. "“This 1s to be without ceremony, and on'lx wo four. No one knows a word of it. Did you tell any one, Sir Edwin?" “Perish the thought,” I exclaimed. She turned her face toward Brandon “—but 1 know you did not. I've heard how discreet you were about another mat- ter. Well, no one knows it then, and we can have a famous evening. You did not expect this, Master Brandon, after my reception of you the other morning? Were you not surprised when Sir Edwin told you? “I think I can safely say that I was pre- pared not to be surprised at anything vour Highness might graclously conclude to do—after my first experience,” he an- swered smiling. “Indeed?” returned Mary, with elevated evebrows and a rising inflection on the last syllable of the word. It was now her turn for a little surprise. “Well, we'll try to find some way to eurprise you one of these days’; and the time came when she was full of surprises for him. Mary con- tinued: “But let us not talk about the other day. Of what use are ‘other days’ anyway? Before the evening is over, Mas- ter Brandon, we want you to give us an- other sermon,” and she laughed, setting off three other laughs as hearty ‘and sin- cere as if she had uttered the rarest wit- ticism on earth. The Princess had told Jane and Jane had told me of the “Serman in the Park,” as Mary called it. ‘‘Jane needs it as much as I,” sald the Princess. “I can't belleve that,” responded Bran- don, looking at Jane with a softening glanca quite too admiring and commenda- tory to suit me, for I was a jealous little devil. The eyebrows went up again. “Oh! you think she doesn’t? Well! in truth, Master Brandon. there is one fall- ing that can not be laid at your door; you are no flatterer.” ¥For answer Brandon laughed and that gave us the cue, and away we went In a rippling chorus, all about nothlr? Some persons may call our laughter foolish, buf there are others who _consider it the height of all wisdom. St. George! I'd give my Garter for just one other laugh like that; for just one other hour of vouth's dancing bfood and glowing soul-warmth; of sweet, uncon- sclous, happy, heart-beat and paradise- creatin joy 15 everythine. After a few minutes of gay conversa- tion, in which we all jolned, Mary aske ““What shall we do? Will one of you sug- gest something?” Jane sat there looking so demure you would have thought mischief could not live within a league of her, but those very danger- play.” which was by her side. Ves, that will be delightful. Master Brandon, will you dance with me?" asked the Princess, ‘with a saucy little laugh, her invitation meaning so much more to three of us than to Brandon. Jane and I joined in the laugh, and when Mary clapped her hands that set Brandon off too. for he thought it the quaintest, pret- tiest little gesture in the world, and was all unconscious that our laugh was at his expense. Brandon did not answer Mary's invita- tion—the fit of laughter had probably put it out of his mind—so she, evidently anx- fous to win or lose her wager at once, again asked him if he danced. “Oh, pardon me. Of course. Thank you.” And he was on his feet beside her chair in an Instant ready for the dance. This time the girl's laugh, though equally merry, had another toné, for she knew she had lost. Out they stepped upon the polished floor, he holdlnf her hand in his, await- ing the pause {n the musie to take the step. T shall never forget the sight of Those two standing there fogether— Mary, dark-eyed and glowing; Brandon, almost rosy, with eyes that held the color of a deep’ spring sky, and a wealth of flowing curls crowning ‘his six feet of perfect manhood, strong and vizorous as a young lion. Mary, full of beauty-curves and graces, a veritable Venus in her teens, and THE SUNDAY CALL. Brandon an Apollo, with a touch of Her- cules, were a complement each to the other that would surely make a perfect one. 5 When the music started, off they went, heel and toe, bow and_ courtesy, a Step forward and ‘a step back, in perfect time and rhythm—a poem of human motion. Could Brandon dance? The Princess had her answer in the first ten steps. Nothing could be more graceful than Brandon's dancing, unless it were Mary’s. Her slight- est movement was grace itself. When she would throw herself backward in thrust- ing out her toe, and then swing forward With her head 4 little to one side, her up- lifted arm undulating like the white neck of a swan—for her sleeve, which was slit to the shoulder, fell back and left it bare —she was a sight worth a long journey to see. and when she looked up to Brandon with a laugh in her brown eyes, and a curving smile just parting her full, red lips, that a man would give his very luck to—but I had better stop. ““Was there ever a goodlier couple?’ I asked Jane, by whose side I sat. ‘Never,” ‘she responded as she played, and, strange to say, 1 was jealous be- cause she agreed with me. I was jealous because I feared it was Brandon's beauty to which she referred. That I thought Would naturally appeal to her. Had he been less handsome, I should perhaps have thought nothing of it, but I knew what my feelings were toward Mary. and 1 judged, or rather misjudged. Jane by myself. 1 supposed she would think of Brandon as 1 could not help thinking of Mary. Was anything in heaven or earth ever so beautiful as that royal creature, dancing there. daintily holding up her skirts with thumb and first finger just far enough to show a distracting little foot and ankle, and make one wish he had been born a sheep rather than a_sentient man who had to live without Mary Tu- dor? Yet, strange as it may seem, I was really and wholly in love with Jane; in fact, I loved no one but Jane, and my feeling of Intense admiration for Mary was but a part of man's composite incon- stancy. . A woman—God bless her—if she really loves a man, has no thought of any other; one at a time is all-sufficient; but a man may love one woman with the warmth of & simoon and at the same time feel like a good healthy south wind toward a dozen others. That is the difference between a man and a woman—the difference be- tween the good and the bad. One aver- age woman has enough goodness In her to supply an army of men. Mary Brandon went on dancing long after Jane was tired of plaving. It was plain to see that the girl was thoroughly enjoying it. They kept up a running fire of small talk, and laughed and smiled and bowed and courtesied, all in perfect time and grace. It is more difficult than you may think, if you have never tried, to keep up & con- versation and dance La Galliard at the game time—one is apt to balk the other— but Brandon's dancing was as easy to him as walking, and, although o smail a mat- ter, I could see it raised him vastly in the estimation of both girls. “Do you play triumph?' I heard Mary ask him in the midst of dancing. “Oh! yes,” replied Brandon, much to my delight, as the Princess threw a mis- knowing glance over her shoul- e if I had heard. She at once saw I had, and this, of course, settled the wager., “And,” continued Brandon, also %luy the new game, ‘honor and ruff, which is more Interesting than triumph. ““Oh! do you?" cried Mary.® *That will more than compensate for the loss of m; ten crowns. Let us sit down at once; have been wishing to learn, but no one here seems to know it. In France, they say, it is the only game. I suppose theres i8 where you learned it? Perhaps you know their new dances, too! I have heard they are delightful.” “Yes, I know them,'” replied Brandon. ““Why, you are a perfect treasure; teach me at once. How now, Master of the Dance? Here is your friend outdoing you in vour own line" 1f Lady Jane will 'kindly play llvely alr, written in the time of ‘Th Sailor Las: 1il teach the Lady Mary aid Brandon. Jane threw one plump little knee over ther and struck u? “The lor ' After she had adjusted the play- ln7 to Brandon's -uzgeuuon. he .“Y( d deliberately in tront of Mary, and, taking her-right hand in his left,” encircled her walst with his right arm. rl was startled at first and drew away. This net- tllet? lErandon a little and he showed it plainly. “I thought you wished me to teach you the new dance?”’ he sald. “I do, byt—but I did not know it was danced that way,” she replied, with a flut- tering little laugh, looking up into his face with a half shy, half apologetic man- ner, and then dropping her lashes before his gaze. “Oh, well!” sald Brandon, with a Frenchman’s shrug of the shoulders, and then moved off as if about to leave the floor. “But s that really the way you—they dance it? With your—their arm around my—a lady’s waist?" . I should not have dared venture upon such a familiarity otherwise,” answered Brandon, with a glimmer of a smile play- ing around his lips and hiding in his eyes. Mary saw this shadowy smile, and said: “‘Oh! I fear your modesty will cause you hurt; T am beginning to believe you would dare'do anything you wish. I more than f suspect you are a very bold man, not- withstanding your smooth, modest man- ner.” You do me foul wrong, I assure you. T am the soul of modesty and grieve that you should think me bold,” sald Brandon, with a broadening smile. Mary interrupted him. “Now, I do be- lleve you are laughing at me—at my pru- dery, I suppose you think it.” Mary would rather have been called a fool than a.prude, and I think she was right. Prudery is no more a sign of vir- tue than a wig is of hair. It is usually put on _to hide a bald place. The Princess stood irresolute for a mo- ment in evident hesitation and annoy- ance. “You are grieving because I think you bold! And yet you stand there laughing at me to my face. I think so more than ever now. I know it. Oh. you make me angry! Don't! I do not like persons who anger me and then laugh at me.” This turned Brandon's smile Into a laugh which he could not hold back Mary’s eves shot fire, and she stamped her foot, exclaiming: “Sir, this goes be- yond all bounds; I will not tolerate your boldness another moment.” I thought she was going to dismlss him, but she did not. The time had come when he or she must be the master. It was a battle royal between the forces on the floor, and T enjoyed it and felt that Brandon would come out all right. He said good-humoredly: ‘“‘What, shall you have all the laugh in your sleeve at my expense? Do you expect to bring me here to win a wager for you, made on the assumption of my stupidity and lack of social accomplishments, and then com- plain when {t comes my turn to laygh? I think I am the one who should be offend- ed, but you see I am not.” “‘Caskoden, did you tell him?" demand- ed Mary, evidently referring to the wager. “He sald not a word of it,” broke In Brandon, answering for me; “I should have been a dullard, indeed, not to have seen it myself after' what you sald about the loss of your ten crowns; so let us cry quits and begin again.’’ . Mary reluctantly strick her flag. “Very well, I am willing,” she sald laughingly, “but as to your boldness, I still insist upon that; I forgive you, how- ever, this time.” Then, half apologetical- ly, “After all, it is not such a grievous charge to maKe. I believe it never yet in- jured any man with a woman; they rather like it, T am afraid, however angry it makes them. Don’t they, Jane Jane, of course, “‘did not know,” so we all laughed, as usual. upon the slightest pretext, and Mary, that fair bundle of contradictions and quick transitions, stepped boldly up to Brandon, with her colors fiying in her cheeks, ready for the first lesson in the new dance. She was a little frightened at his arm around her whaist, for the embrace was new to her—the first touch of man—and was shy and coy, though willing. bein; Totermined th Sextn the dance. "She was an apt fupll and soon glided softly and racefully around the room with an un- el elight, ylelding to the new sen- sation more easily as she became accus- tomed to it. This dance was liveller exercise than La Galllard, and Mary could not talk much for lack of breath. ' Brandon kept the con- versation going, though, and she an- swered with glances, smil nods end monosyllables—a very good vocabulary in its way, and a very good way, too, for that matter. Once he sald something to her, in a low voice, which brought @& flush’ to her cheeks and caused her to glance quickly up into his face. By the time her answer came they were nearer to us and I heard her say: “I am afraid I shall have to forgive you again if you are not careful. Let me see an exhibition of that modesty Yyou so much boast.” But a smile and a flash of the eyes went with the words and took all the sting out of them. After a time the dancers stopped, and Mary, with flushed face and sparkling eyes, sank into a chalr, exclaiming: “The new dance is delightful, Jane. It is like flying; your partner helps you so. But what ‘would the King say? And the Queen? She would simply swoon with horror. It {s delightful, though.” Then, with more confusion in her manner than 1 had ever before seen: ““That s, it is de- lightful if one chooses her partner. This only made matters worse and gave Brandon an opportunity. “Dare 1 hope?'—he asked, with a defer- ential bow. ““Oh. yes; you may hope. I tell frankly it was delightful with you. are you satisfled, my modest one? 1 see we have a forward body telling what he will be at Mary, with evident impatien apidly swaying her fan. She spoke almost sharp- ly, for Brandon's attitude was more that of an equal than she was accustomed to, and her royal dignity, which tificial part of her, rebelled aga and then in spite of her real in The habit of recelving only adula living on a pinnacle above everybody was so strong from continued practice, that it appealed to her as a duty to main- tain that elevation. She had never before been called upon to exert herself in that direction, and the situation was new. The servile ones with whom she usually asso- clated maintained it for her; so she now felt, whenever she thought of it, that she was in duty bound to clamber back, at least part of the way, to her dignity, how- ever pleasant it was, personally. down be- Jow n the denser atiosphere of informal- ¥. In her heart the Princess preferred upon proper occasions, such as this, to abate her dignity. and often requested others to dispense with ceremony, as, In fact, she had done with us earlier in the evening. But Brandon’s easy manner, although perfectly respectful and elegantly polite, was very different from anything she had ever known. She enjoyed it, but every now and then the sense of her importance and dignity—for you must remember sha was the first Princess of the blood royal— would supersede even her love of enjoy- ment, and the girl went down and the Princess came up. Besides, she half fear.d that Brandon was amusing himself at her expense, and that, in fact, this was a new sort of masculine worm. Really, she sometimes doubted if it were a worm at aill, and did not know what to expect, nor what she ought to do. med you Now, fane, here; no t.” said and would have preferred to remain me: 1y girl and let events take the course they were going, for she liked it. But there was the other Ea" of her which was Prin- cess, and which kept saying: “Remember who' you are,” so she was plainly at a loss between natural and artificial incli- gatlons contending unconsciously within er. 3 Replying to Mary’s remark over Jane's shoulder, Brandon said: ‘“Your Highness asked us to lay as!de ceremony_for the evening, and {f I have offended I can but make for my" excuse my desire to please you. Be sure 1 shall offend no more.” This was said so seri- ously that his meaning could not be mis- understood. He did not care whether he pleased so capriclous a person or not. Mary made no reply, and it looked as if Brandon had the worst of it. We sat a few minutes talking, Mary wearing an alr of dignity. Cards were proposed, and as the game progressed she gradually unbent again and became as affable and famillar as earlier in the evening. Brandon, however, was frozen. He was polite, dli‘nlfled and deferentlal to the ladles, but the spirit of the evening was gone, since he had furnished ‘t all with his free, off-hand manner, full of life and brightness. After a short time, Mary’s warming mood falling to thaw our ~frozen fun- maker, and in her heart infinitely prefer- ring pleasure to dignity, she said: ‘“Oh, this is wearisome. - Your game is far less entertaining than your new dance. Do soniething to make me laugh, Master Brandon.” . et & tearxou must call in Will Sommers,"” he replied, “if you wish to laugh. I can not please’ you In both ways, so will_hold to the one which seems to suit the Prin- cess.” Mary's eyes flashed and she sald froni- “That sounds very much as though you cared to please me in any way.” Her lips parted and she evidently had something unkind ready to say; but she held the breath she had_taken to speak it with, and, after one &r two false starts in as many different lines, continued: ‘“But perhaps I deserve it. I ask you to for- give me, and hereafter desire you thre: upon all proper occasfons, when we are b ourselves, to treat me as one of you—as a woman—a girl, I mean. Where is the virtue of royalty if it only means bein put upon a pedestal gbove all the rea pleasures of life, like foollsh old Stylites on his column? The Queen is alway preaching to me about the strict mainten- ance of my ‘dignity royal,’ as she calls it, and perhaps she is right; but out upon ‘dignity royal' say I; it is a terrible nul- sance. Oh, you don’t know how difficult it is to be a Princess and not a fool. il;h;re!" And she sighed in apparent re- ef. Then turning to Brandon, “You have taught me another good lesson, sir, and from this hour you are my friend, if you will be, so long as you are worthv—no; I do not mean that; I know you will al- ways be worthv—but forever. Now we are at rights again. Let us try to rema'n so—that fs, T will.' and she laughingly gave him her hand, which he, rising to his feet, bowed low over and kissed, rther fervently and lingeringly, 1 thought. Hand-kissing was new to us in England, excepting in case of the King and Queen at public homage. It was a littla start- ling to Mary, though she permitted him to hold her hand much longer than there was any sort of need—a fact she recog- nized, as I could easily see from her teli- tale cheeks, which were rosy with the thought of it. So it is when a woman goes on the de- fensive prematurely ‘and without cause: it makes it harder to apply the check when the real need comes. After a little cnrd-glnying I expressed regret to Jane that I could not have a dance with her for lack of music. “I will play, if the ladles permit.”” sald Brandon; and he took Lady Jane's lute and played and sang some very pretty love songs and some comic ones, too, in a style not often heard in England, so far away from the home of the troubadour and lute. He was full of surprises, this splendid fellow, with his accomplishments and graces. hen we had danced as long as we wished—that is, as Jane wished—as for myself, I would have been dancing yet— Mary again asked us to be seated. Jane having rested, Brandon offered to teach her the new dance, sayving he could whis- tle an_air well enough to give her the step. I at once grew uneasy with jealous suspense, for I did not wish Brandon to dance in that fashion with Jane, but to e replied: “No; thank you; not to-night.” Then shyly glancing toward me: ‘‘Perhaps Sir Edwin will teach me when he learns. It is_his business. you know." Would 1? If a month, night and day, would conquer it, the new dance was as as done for already. That was the first real mark of favor I ever had from ane. We now had some songs from Mary and Jane; then I gave one, and Brandon sang again at Mary's request. We had duets and quartets and solos, and the son were all sweet, for they came from the heart of youth and went to the soul of outh, rich in its God-given fresh delight n everything. Then we talked, and v, and Jane, too, with a sly, shy, soft little ‘'word ‘now and then, drew Brandon out to tell of his travels and adventures. He was a pleasing talker, and had a smooth, easy flow of words, s ing al- ways in a low, clear volce and with per- fect composurs. He had a way of look- ing first one auditor and then another straight in the eyes with a magnetic fect that gave to everything he sald an added interest. Although at that time less than twenty-five years old, was really a learned man, having studied at Barcelona, Salamanca and Paris. Whil there had been n his mind was a sort of knowledg: shop, wherein he could find almost any- thing he wanted. He spoke Gorun% French and Spanish and seemed kno the literature of all these languages. He told us he had left home at the earty age of sixteen as his uncle’s esquire, an had fought In France, then down in Hol- land with the Dutch; had been captured by the Spanish and had Aolned the Span- ish army. as it mattered not where he fought, 80 that there was a chance® for honorable achievement and a fair ransom now and then. He told us how he had gone to Barcelona and S8alamanca, where he had studied, and thence to Granada, among the Moors; of his fighting against the pirates of Barbary, his capture by them, his slavery and adventurous es- cape; and his regret that mow drowsy peace kept him mewed up In a palace. “It is true,” he said, ‘‘there is a pros- pect of trouble with Scotland, but I would rather flihl a pack of howling, starving wolves than the Scotch; they fight like very devils, which, of course, is well, but you have nothing after you have beaten them, not even a {ood whole wolf skin. In an unfortunate moment Mary sal “Oh, Master Brandon, tell us of your duel with Judson.” Thoughtful, considerate Jane frowned at the Princess in surprise, and put her finger on her lips, our ladyship, I fear I can not” he wered, and left his seat, going over to window, where he stood. Wwith his back toward us, looking out into the darkness. Mary saw what she had done and her eyes grew moist, for, with-all her faults, she had a warm, tender heart and a quick, responsive sympathy. After & few seconds of painful silence, she went softly over to the window where Brandon stood. “Sir, forgive me,” she sald, putting her hand prettily upon his arm. *“I should have known. Belleve me, I would not have hurt you intentionally.” Ah! my lady, the word was thought- lessly spoken and needs no forgivenes but your heart shows Itself in the ask- ing, and I thank you; I wanted but a mo- ment to throw off the thought of that ter- rible day.” Then they came back to- gether, and the Princess, who had tact enough when she cared to use it, soom put matters right again. I started to tell one of my best storles in order to cheer Brandon, but in the midst of it, Mary, who, ticed, was resticss and uneasy, blushes and hesitancy, and with a manner as new to her as the dawn of the first day was to_the awakening world, abruptly asked Brandon to dance with'her again. She had risen and was standing by her chalr ready to be led out. “Gladly,” answered Brandon, as he sprung to_her side and took her hand. “Which shall it be, La Galllard or the new dance?’ And ‘Mary standing there, the Jflr(ure of walting, willing modesty, lifted her free hand to his shoulder, tried to raise her eyes to his. but failed, and softly said: * new dance.” This time the dancing was more sol done, and when Mary stopped it was wit gerious, thoughtful eyes for she had felt the tingling of a new strange force in Brandon's ~ touch. A man, not a worm, but a real man, with all the irresistible infinite attractions that a man may have for a woman—the subtle drawing of the lodestone for the ive iron—had come into her life. Doubly sweet it was to her intense, young virgin soul, In that it first revealed the dawning of that two-edged bliss which makes a heaven or a hell of earth—of earth, which owes its very ex- istence to love. I do not mean that M but that she had met, an time felt the touch. yes even the subtls, unconscious, dominating force so sweet to woman, of the man she could love, and had known the rarest throb that pulses in that choicest of all God's perfect handi. work—a_woman's_heart—the throb that goes before—the John the Baptist, as it were, of coming love. It being after midnight Mary fllled two cups of wine, from each of which she took a sip, and handed them to Brandon and me. She then gud me the ten crowns, very soberly thanked us and sald we were at liberty to go. The only words:Brandon ever spok: concerning that evening were just as we retired: “Jesu! she is perfect. But you .were wrong. Caskoden. I can still thank God 1 am not in love with her. I would fall upon my sword if I were. I was upon the point of telllng him she other man as she had never treated an: had treated him_but I thought it best to leave it unsald. ‘Trouble was apt to come of its own accord soon enough. In truth, T may as well teil you that when the Princess asked me fo bring Brandon to her that she might have a little sport at his expense she looked for a laugh but found a sigh. was in love, for the first CHAPTER V. AN HONOR AND AN ENEMY. A day or two after this Brandon was commanded to an audience and presented to the King and Queen. He was now ell- sible to all palace entertainments and would probably have many invitations, being a favorite with both their Majes- tles. As to his standing with Mary, who was really the most important figure, so- cially, about the court, I could not exact- Iy say. She was such a mixture of con- tradictory impulses and rapid transitions and was so full of whims and caprice, the inevitable outgrowth of her blood, her rank and the adulation amid which she had always lived, that I could not predict for a day ahead her attitude toward any one. She had never shown 8o great favor to any man as to Brandon, but just how much” of her condescension was a mers whim_ growing out of the impulse of the moment, and subject to reaction, I could not tell. I belleved, however, that Bran- don stood upon a firmer foundation with this changing, shifting, quicksand of a girl than with either of th Majesties. In fact, I thought he restéd upon her heart fitself. But to guess correctly what a girl of that sort will do, or think, or feel would require inspiration, Of course most of the entertainments given by the King and Queen include as guests nearly 1 the court but Mary often had little fetes and danéing parties which were smaller, more select and In- formal. arties wers really with the consent and encouragement of the King, to avold the responsibility of not inviting everybody. The larger affairs were very dull and smaller ones might give offense to those who were left out. The latter,therefore, were turned over to Mary, who cared very little who was of- fended or who was not, and invitations to them were highly valued. One afternoon, a day or two after Brandon's presentation, a message ar- rived from Mary, notifying me that she would have a little fete that evening in one of the smaller halls and directing me to be there as Master of the Dance. Ac- companying the message was a note from mo less a personage than the Princess herself, inviting Brandon. This was an honor indeed—an auto- glnh invitation from the hand of Mary! ut the masterful rascal did not seem to consider it anything unusual and when I handed him the note upon his return from the hunt, he simply read it carelessly over once, tore it In pieces and tossed it away.