Katie gives one of her ringing laughs as she replies: 'Oh, I have not been moping, mother; neither have I been alone. Walter Reeves called in; and do you know you have half offended him, for you asked him to go with us to Government House.'

'So I did, sure enough. I said we should have a carriage from Robyn's livery-stables as usual, and that there would be plenty of room for him. I little thought then, we should not even have an invitation. Was Walter very angry?'

'I daresay he has got over it by this time, and is sunning himself in Mrs Best's smiles. Do you know, mother, I have found out it was Laura who would not invite us to the party? It was not the Admiral's fault after all.'

'I can't see that makes any difference, Katie: the fact remains the same.'

'But it does make a difference—a very great one to me; and I'm so glad I've found out the truth at last.'

Katie sees her sister looking up over her book at her with grave reproach in her blue eyes. If Mrs Grey is too obtuse to understand, Nellie is not so blind, and she has a sudden revelation of what it all means. She knows the sublime selfishness of her sister, her ambition, her love of retaliation; and the unspoken reproof makes Katie turn suddenly away and seat herself at the piano. A feeling of defiance actuates the girl at the moment; and she begins at once to sing one of Sir Herbert's favourite songs, one he has often asked for, a stirring vigorous melody, that goes straight to the heart, and wakens up whatever is brave and martial in one's nature. Mr Grey closes his books at once; he knows he cannot reckon up decimal fractions while the room is flooded with music and melody, for Katie's rich voice and brilliant accompaniments arrest attention at once. Mrs Grey listens also, and dozes between whiles, thoroughly enjoying her evening at home. Though she would have shaken off her drowsiness, and dressed herself in one of her rich brocaded silks or lustrous moires, and would have accompanied Katie to the scene of action, had she been an invited guest at the Admiral's to-night. Willingly would she have gone through any amount of inconvenience, rather than this handsome daughter of hers should fail of proper escort, or infringe any of the 'thousand-and-one' rules of etiquette.

CHAPTER III.—AT GOVERNMENT HOUSE.

Captain Reeves is in no placid frame of mind as he goes on his way to the Admiral's. He passes through the grim strong gates at the entrance, near which a sentry is solemnly pacing to and fro. He walks down the long pathway, on each side of which huge tubs of aloes hold out their dark sharp-pointed leaves, and then he goes up the broad brightly lighted stairs. The rooms are already full of people; a confused well-bred murmur of conversation rises from the throng of guests in mingled subdued tones. Sir Herbert is standing inside the larger drawing-room, talking with a group of officers; but he leaves them the moment he catches a glimpse of Walter at the door. He even goes to meet him with a smile of welcome on his lip, looking all the while over his shoulder, as though he expected to see other guests coming with him.

'You are late, Captain Reeves. But where is the rest of your party? Did you not say you were coming with the Greys?'

'The Greys won't be here, Sir Herbert. I called there, but find none of them are going out this evening.'