never met anyone of his type, though since the arrival of the Waveryngs her experience of the English aristocracy had extended somewhat beyond her brother-in-law. It struck her that Lord Astar's type was most nearly approached by Morres Blake in his lighter moods. Certainly nothing more widely removed from the type could be conceived than Frank Hallett.
It may have been with some wild idea of making Blake jealous that Elsie flirted so desperately with Lord Astar. All Leichardt's Town—that is, the portion of it which constituted society—remarked her behaviour on the day of the races. They were in the grand stand. Ina and her husband in that portion which was railed off for the Government House party and the higher officials, but Elsie with the Prydes in a less exalted position. She was looking lovely in a grey dress with soft lace at the neck and a bewitching bonnet made out of the breast of an Australian bird. Lord Astar admired her dress, and Elsie told him that she had sat up all the night before to finish it. She also informed him that the bonnet, or at least the bird which composed it, had been a present from King Tommy, of Yoolaman.
"And so the Prince is not your only royal admirer," said Lord Astar. "Are lower mortals privileged to lay tributes of loyalty at your feet?"
As he spoke, Elsie became suddenly aware that Blake was passing along the gangway behind her chair. She felt that he stopped, knew instinctively that he had heard Lord Astar's speech, and was waiting for her reply. A demon of recklessness seized her, she looked coquettishly up at Lord Astar and answered very distinctly, "Certainly. Tributes are always welcome."
"Miss Valliant," Blake's incisive tones seemed to cut the air, "Lady Horace has gone down to the saddling paddock, and she asked me to bring you to her."
Elsie started. Blake moved a chair beside her.
"You will come?" His eyes were full upon her.
She rose obediently; it would have been impossible for
