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to care. But somehow the society of
the callow youths who had made love
to her began to be intolerabe. Will
ingly or not, she realized that John
was necessary to her life.
When he did come he was as pleas
ant as ever. But never another word
of love passed his lips. And about the
end of the month he had given him
self he came cleefullv ud the nath.
b "Ship's in the bay," he called.
inr oil l t 3 t it- in x
i es .' uiqiurcu ljyuiu, witnout en
thusiasm.
"Putting in at Raree. And say,
Miss Lydia, what do you -think?
There's a party of English girls going
to spend a whole month in Raree.
Now we'll have some jolly times, eh?"
"What are they doing in Raree?"
inquired Lydia suspiciously.
"Blessed if I know," said John,
"I hope you'll 'have a good time,
then," said Lydia acidly, and left him.
Erom her window upstairs she looked
across the bay toward Raree through
her father's telescope. She saw the
tiny town, and the ocean liner in the
harbor, and suddenly she found that
she was crying.
She looked at herself in the glass
and discovered that she was not real
ly pretty only pleasant-looking and
good-natured. John Hardy would find
equal or greater attractions in any of
a hundred women with whom pro
prinqulty might throw him. And she
had as good as lost him!
She felt sure of it during the ensu
ing days. Not for a world would she
ask any of her friends about the Eng
lish girls in Raree. Buf she was mis
erably unhappy, and she treated
John like a dog, which is the way of
some women when they are in love.
The worst of it was, John did not
P seem to care. He spent a lot of time
away from her now, and whenever
she asked him where he had been,
he always said "Raree."
"I'm tired of hearing you tell me
you have been over there," she burst
out at last "If you find it so fascin
ating in Raree, you can just stay
away from here."
"Why, Miss Lydia!" protested John.
"I didn't know you minded my going
to Raree."
"I don't, and I don't want you to
think I do so there!" cried Lydia,
unable to control the tears.
"But Lydia. Dearest!"
"How dare you call me 'dearest'
when you spend all y6ur time across
the bay? No, don't you dare to try
to put your arms round me. You
can just go to your pack of English
women and keep away from here for
forever! I shouldn't care at all if
you hadn't protested that you you
loved me!"
"But I do love you, Lydia! I love
you with all my heart."
Angry as Lydia was, she could not
help the thrill that came to her when
John said that And she suffered him
to take her in his arms without re
sistance; and she knew that she loved
him with all her heart too.
"But what do you go to Raree
for?" she demanded presently, sti
fling the sobs that would still come
from her lips.
"Why, I I haven't been to Raree
quite as much as I pretended to you,"
admitted Hardy. "You see "
"Yes, I see very welL It's that pack
of English women over there."
"But there aren't any English
women not real ones," said John.
"You see, they are Kanaka women,
the wives of some of the black work
ers in Australia, who are waiting for
their husbands to come home after
serving their erm on plantations.
"John! Black women? Natives?
You said they were English women.''
"Well, they are, legally, Lydia,
dearest"
"You said that you were blessed if
you knew what they are doing there."
"I did," answered John Hardy braz
enly. "I knew what they were doing
there, and I am blessed. I'm blessed
with the love of the sweetest girl in
the world, am I not?"
"I I suppose so, John," said Ly
dia weakly, yielding to his kisses.
(Copyright, 1916, W. G. Chapman.)
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