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ALICE LAUDER.

a legend about a great red stag, with huge antlers, who is always seen and never shot. Why don’t you go, Mr. Campbell?”

“I’ve a great mind to.”

“I think you should. It is a great chance to see the interior. Do you see that sandy, bushy sort of a man with the dog? He is going, I know. I heard him talking about it at dinnertime.”

Arthur took a sudden resolution. “I will see him, and get him to let me hang on to his party. But what will you do?” he added in a lower key.

“Oh, I shall stay on the steamer, and we will get back to-morrow night. I shall be home by nine. I told them to meet me with the brougham at the wharf, so no one will be anxious. Don’t you bother about me.”

She looked out at the passing cliffs with her usual unconcerned gaiety, but her lips were firmly pressed together, and the colour that usually lighted up her face with its morning sparkle had quite disappeared.

When he came back the sunset was fading over the woods, and that look of tragedy which is never long absent from the wild southern landscape was settling down with the shadows.

“Well, I must say good-bye soon, worse luck,”