"we are told in stories olden

dragons watched the apples golden,

quick to send a thief to hades.

now no fruit the world-tree ladens,

apples gold are dainty maidens,

and the dragons are old ladies."

after dinner--a meal cooked, conducted, and eaten on strictly digestive principles--most of the inmates of pinchler's retired to bed. sleep was necessary to the well-being of these wrecks of humanity, so those who could sleep went to their repose with joyful hearts, and those who could not, put off the evil hour precluding a restless night by going to the drawing-room for a little music.

here they sat in melancholy rows round the room, comparing notes as to their physical sensations, and recommending each other patent medicines. some of the younger people sang songs and played popular airs on the out-of-tune piano furnished by pinchler's. during the intervals between the songs scraps of curious conversation could be heard somewhat after this fashion--

"there's nothing like a glass of hot water in the morning."

"dry toast, mind; butter is rank poison."

"rub the afflicted part gently and breathe slowly."

"put a linseed poultice at the nape of the neck."

with such light and instructive conversation did the wrecks beguile their leisure hours, keeping watchful eyes on the clock so as not to miss taking their respective medicines at the right times. mrs. pinchler, a dry, angular woman with a glassy eye and a fixed smile, revolved round the drawing-room at intervals, asking every one how they felt.

"better, mrs. tandle? yes, i thought that syrup would do you good--it soothes the coats of the stomach. miss pols, you do look yellow. let me recommend a glass of hot water in the morning. mr. spons, if you lie down on the sofa i'm sure it will do you good. oh, are you going to play, miss valpy? something quiet, please. music is such a good digestive."

tommy, however, was not a young lady who could play quiet tunes, her performance on the piano being of the muscular order. she therefore favoured the company with a noisy piece of the most advanced school, which had no melody, although full of contrapuntal devices. having shaken every one's nerves with this trying performance, she glided off into a series of popular waltzes, mostly of the scrappy order, in which she sandwiched hymn tunes between music-hall melodies. the wrecks liked this style of thing, as they could all beat time with their feet, and when it was finished said waltzes were charming, but not so fine as "batch's" passion music, of which they knew nothing, not even how to pronounce his name correctly.

"bach!" echoed tommy contemptuously. "oh, he's an old fossil! offenbach's more in my line. oui! you bet! sapristi! vive la bagatelle!"

the company did not understand french, so suffered this observation to pass in discreet silence, but kaituna laughed. she was sitting in a corner by herself, with a look of impatience on her face, for she was expecting a letter and the post was late.

"kaituna," cried tommy, attracted by the laugh, "why are you sitting in the corner like a graven image? come out and sing."

"no, i don't want to. i'm waiting for my letter."

"hasn't it arrived yet?" said miss valpy, skipping across the room. "i'd give it to that dombrain thing if i were you. dombrain! what a name! who is he?"

"my father's solicitor."

"oh, in the law and the profits? i don't mean biblically, but commercially. but, i say, don't keep thinking of your letter, or it won't come. the watched postman never boils."

"what nonsense you talk!"

"i can't help it, dear. my brains leave me when there are no male things in the room."

"there's mr. spons."

"oh, i don't bother about him. he's not a man; he's a medicine bottle. hark! i hear footmarks approaching on horseback. it is the man. now, will you take mr. clendon and i mr. maxwell, or will you take mr. maxwell and i mr. clendon?"

"i don't want either," said kaituna hastily.

"now that's ungrateful, especially when mr. maxwell is such a dear. 'oh, that heaven would send me such a man!'--shakespeare, kaituna, so don't look indignant. you can take archie, and i'll satisfy myself with toby."

"you shouldn't call men by their christian names, thomasina."

"don't say that; it sounds like 'ma. i only call them by their christian names to you. i wouldn't do it to their faces."

"i hope not."

"how proper you are! behold the male sex are at the door! i can smell the tobacco on their clothes."

the rattle of the lively damsel was put an end to by the entry of the gentlemen, headed by maxwell and clendon, the latter of whom miss valpy bore off at once to the piano to make him sing, turn over her music, and make himself generally useful. maxwell, however, went straight across to kaituna, and held out a newspaper.

"this is yours, miss pethram," he said, seating himself beside her, "i knew you were anxious about the post, so i waited downstairs till it came."

"was there no letter?" said kaituna, in some dismay.

"no; nothing but that telegraph."

"oh, there maybe something marked in it," she said quietly. "excuse me a moment while i look."

maxwell bowed and sat watching her as she tore the cover off the paper and opened the rustling leaves. he had only known this girl a fortnight, yet within that time had contrived to fall deeply in love with her. it was not her beauty, although, man-like, he naturally admired a pretty woman. it was not her charming manner, fascinating as it was in every way. it was not her clever brain, her bright conversation, her perfect taste in dress. no. it was that indescribable something which she had about her to attract him in a greater degree than any other woman he had ever known. what that something is no man knows until he has fallen in love, and then he feels it, but cannot describe his sensations. scientists, no doubt, would call it animal magnetism; poets would call it love; scoffers would term it sensuality. but whatever scientists, poets, or scoffers choose to call it, the thing is unnameable, indescribable, and is the necessary concomitant of a happy marriage.

it was this indescribable feeling that had sprung up suddenly between those two young people. kaituna also felt drawn to maxwell, but in a lesser degree, for no matter what cynics may say about the frivolity of women, they are certainly less inflammable than men. a pretty woman knows her power to attract the opposite sex, and uses it daily, mostly for amusement; therefore when her time does come to feel the genuine pangs of love, she is more able to govern and control her feelings than a man who, as a rule, simply let's himself go. so this was exactly how the case stood between these two lovers. maxwell felt that kaituna was the one woman in the world for him, and never attempted to suppress his passion in any way. he allowed himself to be so entirely dominated by it, that it soon became his master, and all his days and nights were given over to dreams of this beautiful dark woman from a distant isle of the sea. on the other hand, kaituna felt that she loved him, but controlling herself with feminine dexterity, never let her infatuated lover see that his passion was responded to in any way. had he tried to go away she would speedily have lured him back by means of those marvellous womanly arts, the trick of which no man knoweth; but the poor love-lorn wretch was so abjectly submissive that she coolly planted her conquering foot on his neck and indulged in a little catlike play with this foolish mouse.

he was a handsome fellow too, archie maxwell, with his fresh-coloured face, his yellow hair and moustache, his blue eyes, and his stalwart figure. a lover any girl would be proud to have at her feet, as kaituna undoubtedly was, though the woman predominated in her too much to allow her to let him see her approval. poor! yes, he was poor, certainly. an engineer, who wandered over half the world building bridges and railways, and all kind of extraordinary things. still, he was young, and engineering is a money making profession, so kaituna positively determined that should he ask her to marry him, she would consent. but her father--well, he was thousands of miles away, and when he returned she would no doubt gain his approval; so at present she surrendered herself entirely to this new delicious feeling, and ulysses, tangled in the snares of calypso, forgot everything save the face of the conquering nymph.

meanwhile calypso read the paper while ulysses watched her, and they both sat silent while every one round them talked loudly. tommy was playing a nigger minstrel tune, and toby, leaning on the piano, was chatting to her gaily, evidently on the fair way to become as much enamoured of his nymph as this other sighing rover.

"well, have you found what you wanted?" asked maxwell, as the lady looked up with a bright smile.

"yes! it is marked with a blue pencil, and as you have been so kind in playing postman, you can read it."

archie did so.

"wanted, a companion for a young lady. apply by letter, dombrain, 13, chintler lane, city."

"short and sweet," he said, handing the paper back, with a puzzled look on his face; "but i don't understand it."

"it's easily explained," replied miss pethram, composedly. "mr. dombrain is my father's solicitor, and is advertising for a chaperon--for me."

"for you! but you have mrs. valpy."

"mrs. valpy is a dear old lady, but she is--mrs. valpy."

"it is a very serious thing to advertise in a paper for a chaperon. you never know the kind of person you may get."

"mr. dombrain will."

"mr. dombrain may not be infallible," retorted archie, feeling rather angry, he knew not why, at the repetition of the name. "if your father wished you to have a chaperon, why didn't he ask mrs. valpy to recommend some one."

kaituna laughed.

"i'm sure i can't tell you! papa has gone away to new zealand on business, and asked mrs. valpy to look after me in the meantime. he left instructions with mr. dombrain--in whom he has full confidence--that i was to be provided with a companion, so i suppose mr. dombrain's only idea of getting one suitable is through the newspapers."

"i think it's a pity."

"oh, not at all! don't be afraid of me, mr. maxwell; i assure you i can take excellent care of myself. all colonial girls can. they are more self-reliant than english young ladies. if i don't like the companion chosen for me by mr. dombrain, i'll easily get rid of her."

"but if mrs. valpy recommended you someone who could introduce you into society."

"some pauper peeress i suppose you mean," said kaituna, equitably. "no, i wouldn't care for that at all. i don't wish to go into society until my father comes home again. then it will be easy, for the pethrams are an old family, and have sisters and cousins and aunts everywhere. when i wish to see the world, i've no doubt papa will find some one to present me at court; but at present i want a companion to talk to. i say a chaperon, but i mean a companion."

"oh, i wish!--i wish!" stuttered archie, growing red; "i wish----"

he stopped short, this wise young man, for he was on the verge of saying something very foolish, which might have jeopardised his chances with the maori maiden, but the fruit was not yet ripe, so with wisdom beyond his years, he refrained from finishing his sentence.

"you've wished three times," said miss pethram calmly. "what is it about?"

"the wish?"

"yes!"

"i wish that you may get a good chaperon."

"so do i, but i suppose they are as difficult to get as anything else. i'm afraid i'll be very hard to please. of course, it's a difficult thing to choose a person to live with."

"even in marriage."

kaituna blushed, and folded up the paper in a somewhat embarrassed fashion.

"marriage is a lottery," she said at length, with an attempt at lightness.

"i think i've heard that remark before."

"very likely. it's hard to say anything original nowadays."

"i suppose," said archie, after a pause, "that when your chaperon is chosen by mr. dombrain, she will come down here."

"oh, dear, no. i'm going home next week with the valpys."

"home?"

"yes. to thornstream, near deswarth, in berkshire. papa's house, you know."

"and i'll never see you again," he said dismally.

"oh, i don't know; the world is small."

maxwell groaned in vexation of spirit, thinking that the heart of this desirable maiden was as the flint which is hard; and the maiden herself, having thus worried her mouse, consoled it in a pleasant fashion.

"besides, berkshire is not very far from london."

"i know that, of course, but i have no acquaintances in deswarth."

"oh, fie! what about mrs. valpy!"

"mrs. valpy! of course, i quite forgot mrs. valpy," said archie, determined to pay court at once to the old lady. "you know i like mrs. valpy."

"since when?" asked kaituna, mischievously.

archie took out his watch gravely, and looked at it.

"to be exact, since a minute ago."

"oh, the craft of the male sex."

"the end justifies the means," quoted archie, jesuitically; "but oh, i say----" he stopped, and a look of alarm overspread his face.

"what's the matter?"

"i'm afraid i won't be able to come down to berkshire."

"why not?"

"because i have to go to south america next month."

kaituna froze instantly, and annihilated him with a glacial look, at which he quailed visibly.

"i can't help it, miss pethram," he said piteously, "don't look at me like that."

"i'm not looking at you like that," retorted miss pethram vengefully. "i--i hope you'll have a pleasant voyage."

"i won't! i hate the sea."

"then why go?"

"needs must, when the devil drives."

"that's very coarse."

"but it's very true. i beg your pardon, really; but, you know, it is hard to have to go prancing about the world when you don't want to."

"how long will you be out in south america?"

"i don't know. perhaps for ever, if i get yellow fever."

"i wish you wouldn't talk like that."

"man is mortal," said maxwell, with gloomy relish.

"man is silly," retorted kaituna rising to her feet, "so i'm going to ask mr. clendon to sing a song."

"you never ask me!" said the young man reproachfully.

"oh! can engineers sing?"

maxwell said a naughty word under his breath, and walked meekly to the piano beside her. toby was in possession of the instrument, and was giving miss valpy selections from the latest london burlesque.

"this is the dance, you know," he said playing a breakdown; "and then comes the song 'skip the gutter daddy, dear,'--a rippin' song."

"sounds like it," said maxwell, caustically; "so refined."

"well, you needn't talk my boy, i've seen you enjoying it immensely."

kaituna directed another look of scorn at the unhappy maxwell, which inspired him with a vehement desire to break toby's head. he refrained, however, and smiled in a sickly manner.

"i prefer shakespeare," he said at length, telling the best lie he could under the circumstances.

"dry old stick," observed tommy, lightly. "there's no fun in him."

"but he's so high class."

"listen to the virtuous one," said clendon, scoffingly. "oh, my gracious! that my boy should talk such jargon. you don't feel ill, do you, archie?"

"no, i don't," retorted archie, in a rage, seeing that kaituna was enjoying this little dialogue with great zest. "i wish you'd be quiet and sing something."

"how can i be quiet and sing also?"

"dosing, mr. clendon," said kaituna, with a kind flash of her beautiful eyes at the happy bard.

maxwell suppressed a second naughty word and sat down in dismal silence.

"what shall i sing?" asked toby, running his fingers over the piano.

"something funny."

"no, no! something sentimental," said kaituna, in a commanding tone, and sat down beside miss valpy.

toby cleared his throat, looked up at the ceiling for inspiration, and laughed.

"i'll sing a betwixt and between thing."

so he did.

"she is the dearest of girls i confess,

her milliners' bills are a sight to see;

dearest of girls in the matter of dress,

dearest of girls in the world to me.

i lost my heart, but i lost my gold,

and hearts without gold are romantic trash;

her love was a thing to be bought and sold,

but i couldn't purchase for want of cash.

"now she is spouse to an aged man,

he's eighty-five and a trifle frail;

soon he'll finish his life's brief span,

then she'll look for another male.

ah! but love comes not twice in our life,

cupid for ever has passed us by;

so if she asked me to make her my wife,

i would not marry her, no not i."

"oh!" said tommy, when the song was ended, "so that's your idea of a woman's love."

"not mine--the world's."

"and what about the love which cannot be bought?" asked kaituna.

"is there such a love?"

"yes, cynic," growled maxwell in disgust; "true love is not a saleable article. the woman who truly loves a man," here his eye rested on kaituna, "lets nothing stand in the way of that love. she gives up rank, fortune, everything for his sake."

"and what does she receive in return?" demanded miss pethram, innocently.

"the true joy which arises from the union of two loving hearts."

"very pastoral indeed," said toby, lightly. "chloe and corydon in arcadia. it once existed, indeed, but now----"

"but now," finished kaituna, rather tired of the discussion, "it is time to retire."

both the gentlemen protested at the ladies going away so early, but kaituna remained firm, and was supported by tommy, who said she felt very tired.

"not of us, i hope!" said toby, meekly.

"thyself hath said it," she replied, holding out her hand. "good-night."

when they were leaving the room, maxwell, who was escorting kaituna, bent over and whispered in her ear--

"i won't go to south america."

"south america," she repeated, with a pretended look of surprise, "oh! yes, of course. i forgot all about it, i assure you. good-night."

she was gone before he could say a word, leaving him overcome with anger at the flippant manner in which she spoke. was she in jest or earnest. he could not tell. perhaps she said one thing and meant another. he could not tell. perchance--oh, women were all alike, they liked to put their victim on a sharp hook and watch him wriggle painfully to be free.

"she's a coquette!"

"who? miss valpy?" asked toby, overhearing.

"no, miss pethram; but i dare say her friend's no better."

"i'm afraid not!" sighed mr. clendon, dismally; "it's six of one and half-a-dozen of the other. but what ails my archibald? his brow is overcast."

"oh! rubbish," growled archibald, rudely; "come and smoke."

the smoking-room was quite empty, so the young men established themselves in two comfortable armchairs, and devoted their energies to the consumption of tobacco. clendon preferred the frivolous cigarette, but archie produced with loving care a well coloured meerschaum, which had been his companion for many years.

"this is a travelled pipe," he said to his friend when the blue smoke was rolling in clouds from his mouth, "a very ulysses of pipes. it has been in far countries and knoweth the ways of the stranger."

"good idea for a story," observed toby, who was always on the look-out for copy. "'the tale of a pipe in ten fills.' egad! i think it ought to go capitally. it's so difficult to get an idea nowadays."

maxwell, luxuriating in his pipe, grunted in a manner which might have meant anything, so toby promptly attacked him on his want of manners.

"you might speak to a fellow when a fellow speaks to you! i tell you what, archie, you've changed for the worse since we were at school together. then you were a gregarious animal, and now you are an unsociable beast."

"don't call names, my good man! i can't help being quiet. my thoughts are far away."

"pish! not so very far."

"well, perhaps not."

"have you asked her to marry you?"

"hardly! i've only known her a fortnight, and besides, i've got no money."

"no; but she has!"

"i don't want to live on my wife. i'm going away to south america."

"never to see her again, i suppose," said toby, ironically; "don't talk nonsense, archie. you're madly in love with miss pethram and don't want to lose sight of her."

"true! but i must when she goes away from here."

"not a bit of it. listen, i will be your good angel."

maxwell laughed grimly at the idea.

"i will be your good angel," repeated toby, imperturbably, "and take you down with me to deswarth."

"to your father's house? i thought you weren't friends with your governor."

"i am not," acknowledged clendon with touching candour; "he wanted me to become a churchman, and i didn't care about it. we had words and parted. now, however, i've won a success in literature, i'll go back and ask the pater to kill the domestic veal. you i will bring with me to the banquet, and as miss pethram lives near you will be able to see her, woo her, wed her, and be happy ever afterwards."

archie made no reply, but smoked furiously; and toby, having delivered himself of what he had to say, also subsided into silence.

after a pause said maxwell--

"toby."

"yes."

"i'll come."

"what about south america?"

"d---- south america."