Julia, her longing eyes fixed on the sea, where she frequently rowed at this hour with one of the old men-servants, had forgotten France’s existence. For quite ten minutes after his arrival, she had obediently smiled upon him, giving him monosyllable for monosyllable, and tried not to compare him to an elderly calf. His opaque, agate-gray eyes stared at her with what she styled a bleating expression, but gradually took fire as her mind wandered. Mrs. Edis talked more than she had done for many years, to cover the defection of her naughty little daughter.

Nevertheless, she divined that Julia’s unaffected indifference was developing the instinct of the hunter to spur the passion of the lover, reflected that an ignorant girl babbling nonsense would have detracted from the charm of the picture Julia made by the window in her white frock, staring through the jalousies with the wistfulness of youth. But when France began to scowl and move restlessly, she said:?—

“Julia, run out into the garden, but do not go far. Mr. France will join you presently.”

Julia had disappeared before the order was finished. Mrs. Edis studied the man’s face still more keenly for a few moments, the while she discoursed about poverty in the West Indies.

There alone in the big dim room something about the man subtly repelled her, and her active mind sought for the cause even while talking with immense dignity upon the only topic of general interest in her narrow life. She had seen little of the great world, but a good deal of dissipated men, and France had none of the insignia to which she was accustomed. His bronzed cheeks, although cleft by ugly lines, were firm; his eyes were clear, and the lines about them might have been due to exposure, laughter, or midnight study. His nose was thin, his mouth invisible under a heavy moustache, but assuredly not loose. The truth was that France had not been drunk for a month, and having a superb constitution would look little the worse for his methodical sprees until his stomach and heart were a few years older. His grizzled close-cropped hair did not set off his somewhat primitive head to the best advantage, but his figure, carriage, grooming, were, to Mrs. Edis’s provincial eyes, those of a proud and self-respecting man.

As the planets were reticent on some subjects, and as she truly loved her daughter, she determined to satisfy her curiosity at first hand, and lay her scruples if possible.

“Is it true that you are dissipated?” she asked abruptly.

He flushed a dark slow red, but his brain, abnormally alive to the instinct of self-protection, worked more rapidly.

“I’ve gone the pace, rather,” he said, in his well-modulated voice. “Nothing out of the common, however. Sick of it, too. Wouldn’t care if I never saw alcohol—or—ah—any of the other things you call dissipations, again.”

He delivered this so simply and honestly that a more experienced woman would have believed him.

“Who told you I was dissipated?” he added. “The Captain? He don’t like me. He’s a bounder and has social aspirations. I’ve never asked him to my club in London, or to Bosquith. That’s all there is to that.”

“Ah!” Mrs. Edis had not liked the Captain; this explanation was plausible. “Why have you come here to-day?” she asked abruptly. “Do you wish to marry my daughter?”

France would have liked to do his own wooing, nibbling its uncommon delights daily, until the sojourn at St. Kitts was almost exhausted. He was an epicure of sorts, even in his coarser pleasures. But he had been warned that in Mrs. Edis he had no ordinary mother to deal with, and he answered her with responsive directness.

“I do. She’s the first girl I’ve ever wanted to marry. Do you think she’ll have me?”

His voice trembled, his face flushed again. He looked ten years younger. Mrs. Edis’s doubts vanished.

“She’ll do what I bid her do. I wish her to marry you. Of course she cares nothing for you, as yet. You will have to win her with kindness and consideration after she marries you. You can see her here every day, if you wish it, and for a few moments in the garden, alone. But don’t expect to make much headway with her before marriage. She is full of romantic dreams, and—and—very innocent.”

His eyes flashed with an expression to which she had no key, but it gave way at once to suspicion, and he asked sombrely:?—

“Is she in love with any one else?”

“She never exchanged a sentence with a young man before last night, and you monopolized her.”

There was a curious motion behind his heavy moustache, but it was brief and his eyes looked foolishly sentimental.

“Good! Good!” he said, with what sounded like youthful ardor. “That’s the girl for me. They’re gettin’ rarer every day.”

“One thing more. We are very poor. I can settle nothing upon her.”

For the first time in his life France felt really virtuous, and was more than ever convinced that his youth (although he had quite forgotten what it was like) had been resurrected.

“Glad of it, Mrs. Edis. You’ll be the more convinced that I’m jolly well in earnest. Give you my word, it’s the first time I ever proposed.”

This was impressive, but the old lady continued to probe. “The Captain also said that you were very much in debt.”

“Rather. But my cousin clears me up every year or so. We’re jolly good pals. Besides, I have an annuity from the estate. And he’s always said he’d settle another thousand a year on me the day I married. That’ll do for the present to keep a wife on. Think I’ll chuck the navy and settle down. Have a jolly little place in good huntin’ country—Hertfordshire.”

“You have great expectations, also,” pursued the old lady, looking past him.

“Ah! Yes! But my cousin’s rather better—” He scowled heavily. “What luck some people have,” he burst out. “My father and his were twins—only mine was one minute too late. And I need money and he don’t. Keeps me awake sometimes thinkin’ of the ways of fate—must have had a grudge against me. Then I think, ‘what’s the use? Can’t help it. And if he don’t get well and marry, it’ll be mine one day.’?”

“You will inherit that great title and estate,” said Mrs. Edis, piercing him with her eyes, as if defying him to laugh, or even to challenge her. “Understand that I am deeply read in the ancient science of astrology, and that my daughter was born under extraordinary planetary conditions: she is a child of Uranus, with ruler in the tenth house trine to Jupiter. That means power, an exalted position, leadership. A great title and wealth, and the most famous political and social salon of her century must be the literal reading; although if the times were more troublous, I should have interpreted the signs to mean that she was destined to wed royalty itself, to reign, in short. But as her career begins now, and as you are here so opportunely, there can be no dispute as to the true reading. You bring a splendid gift in your hands: to be a duchess of our great country is one of the most exalted positions on earth. I may add that Venus in strong position in the horoscope means much feminine grace and charm, added to power. Make sure, your wife will be the most famous duchess in England.”

France thought it possible she was mad, but was thrilled in spite of his doubts. The prophecy, also, was agreeable.

“She’d make a rippin’ duchess,” he assented warmly.

Mrs. Edis went on, unheeding. “There is a period of darkness—trouble—possibly turbulence—sometimes the planets exhibit a strange reserve. If it were not for the ultimate fulfilling of the great ambitions I cherish for my daughter, I should let her marry no one—that is to say, I should instinctively try to prevent it, although the marriage is there—writ as plainly?—”

“I hope it is for this month. I should like to marry her at once. We are here for a fortnight. I can take a cottage somewhere. If I am on duty for a few hours a day—no doubt the Captain will let me off—he’s afraid of me, anyhow. Then she can go direct to England on the Royal Mail. If we don’t sail at the same time,—if the squadron goes to South America,—I’ll cable my resignation, and leave as soon as my successor arrives. My cousin will arrange it. I’ve never cared for the service—it’s the army gets all the fun—never would have gone in, but my father gave me no choice; for a while I found it amusin’, and of late years I’ve stayed in to—ah—spite Captain Dundas, who’d give his eyes to chuck me out. It’s been a long and quite excitin’ game of chess, and I’ve enjoyed it.”

Again Mrs. Edis felt uneasy before the expression of his eyes, but she was now in full surrender to the planets, and besides, he was looking sentimental and rather foolish again, a moment later, as he burst out:?—

“You’ll consent to an immediate marriage, Mrs. Edis?”

“Yes,” she replied promptly, although she had no intention of permitting him to carry out the rest of his program. She had recognized her opportunity of playing him and the Captain against each other to gain her own ends. “Now you can go out into the garden,” she added graciously. “And it will give me pleasure if you will remain to supper.”

But his visit to the garden was brief. Julia, who was wandering about the grove of cocoanut, banana, and shaddock trees which made a romantic jungle of the large space in front of the house, ran past him into the living room, and although she did not attempt to deprive him of the sight of her again, and only stirred sharply and then stared at her hands when her mother announced the betrothal, he was obliged to leave at nine o’clock without having had a word with her alone. He swore all the way down the mountain, his appetite so whetted that it required an exercise of will to steer straight for the ship instead of returning and raiding the house. He was unaccustomed to any great amount of self-control, his haughty spirit dictating that all things should be his by a sort of divine right. This overweening opinion of himself did not prevent him from obtaining his ends by cunning when direct methods failed, and to-night reason dictated that only patience for a few days would avail him. But he was so rude to the Captain, deliberately baiting him in his desire to make some one as angry as himself, that he was forbidden to leave the ship on the following day. For the moment, as he received this order, the Captain thought he was about to spring; but France, with an abrupt laugh, turned on his heel and went to his cabin.