CHAPTER X.

A NEW COMMAND

O'Rourke sent Mr. Pollin's letter back to Hemming, and Molly treasured it, unopened, among her dearest possessions. Mr. Pollin had several serious talks with his sister, but for all the good that came of them he might have saved his breath to blow smoke with. That cantankerous, silly old lady, firmly believing that her daughter had treated her unkindly, refused to have anything more to do with Hemming. Before a few friends as biased or stupid as herself she posed as a Christian martyr. What a pity there were no pagan emperors around, with boiling oil and thumbscrews!

One morning, about three weeks after Hemming's return, he and Molly rode together in Hyde Park. Despite Mrs. Travers, and thanks to Mr. Pollin's library and another friend's saddle-horses, they managed to meet for several hours every day. On this occasion, as they walked their horses shoulder to shoulder, they seemed deep in some great plan.

"I think good old Santosa has had his finger in it," said Hemming. "You see, he married the daughter of the secretary of war not very long ago. Rio is a beautiful place," he continued, "and a general, even of the Brazilian army, is not a person to be lightly treated. Remember that, dear!"

"It will be simply glorious," cried Molly. "But are you quite sure that I have enough clothes, and that there is no immediate danger of a revolution?"

"I should think one gown would be enough for one wedding," he replied, smiling, "and as for a revolution--bah! Brazil is as safe as a nursery these days."

"You must promise me not to give up your writing," she said.

"I could not give it up if I tried. I am under contract for two novels inside the next two years," he answered.

Molly shook her head at that. They touched their nags to a canter, and for a little while rode in silence.

"You took your time to find out," called Molly, presently.

"I am afraid I can't make it any clearer to you," he replied.

Molly drew her horse toward his, and leaned forward in the saddle.

"Dearest boy," she said, "I can't believe that you will ever forget how cruel I was to you, though I know that you forgave me long ago."

"The memory of it is buried somewhere in the Pernamba bush, with the body of Penthouse," he answered, gently.

"But tell me," she began, and paused.

"Anything," he laughed back.

"Did you ever care for Marion Tetson?"

"Not even in those days--when she was really charming."

Several months later, at the house of a mutual friend, Mrs. Travers met General Davidson. The general beamed upon her with marked cordiality.

"I am glad to know that some English people appreciate a good thing," he said.

The rest of the company turned to see what was going on, and the old lady stared.

"I am speaking of your distinguished son-in-law, Herbert Hemming," continued the general, in a dress-parade voice, "and I assure you, madam, that when he took command of the military district of Rio Janeiro, England lost a valuable man. It is a crying shame," he added, glaring around, "that the English government had not Mrs. Travers's discernment."

The dame mumbled a meaningless reply. A curate sniggered behind his hand. Later Mrs. Travers cornered her hostess.

"Why didn't the ungrateful girl tell me?" she asked.

"Tell you what, my dear?"

"About that Rio Janeiro military district."

"You should have read the papers, my dear," replied her hostess, coldly; "then, perhaps, you would not have made yourself so ridiculous."

THE END.

GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LD., ST. JOHN'S HOUSE, CLERKENWELL, E.C.