sinclined
to break.

"To extinction, little lady," he answered, puffing a cloud of smoke into
the hollyhocks. "You see, you have spoiled me for those others." There
was another pause. "And you?" he asked.

"I? Well, I practised, and planted some flowers, and made some things
for Miranda's baby, and then"--she hesitated, with an adorably shy look
full of that pathos, which made so many of her simplest statements seem
claims for protection, "and then I went over into 'My Own Land.'"

He regarded her for a minute, his approval of her showing in every line
of his handsome face. It was in these untouchable moods of her, when she
eluded him utterly, when she took him out of himself entirely, that he
found the most zest in intercourse with her.

"Is it a long journey to that land of yours?" he demanded, gravely,
"making believe" with her.

"Not long," she answered, "but sometimes difficult. I go down to a queer
gate; I never knew where I got that gate," she threw in, in an
explaining way; "and let down the bars and walk up a long driveway of
blue pines, and there I am!"

"Go on," he said, "though I think it shabby that you've never told me of
your property before now."

"I found this country; oh, years ago! Of course, I have changed it a
great deal. There was only one house at first, like Kenilworth Castle,
only much larger, with those heavenly, deep windows. And I have taken
all the people I liked to live there--"

"Jolly," he said; adding, hastily: "But not in the least a house-party
sort of thing, is it? where they play bridge and drink whiskey-sours?"

Katrine shook her head. "These people _live_ in My Country. I've stolen
some, but others come of their own accord. They are very great people.
Colonel Newcome is the host. You know him?"

"Adsum," Frank answered, softly, and Katrine flashed a smile of
appreciation back at him.

"And Henry Esmond," she went on, "I have a time with him. Of course, he
never really married that other woman and went to live in Virginia. He
adored Beatrice until the end, and is always trying to have her with
him. I've had it out with him!" She smiled again, as at a memory, and
extended one hand dramatically.

"'Henry Esmond,' I said (you know he's a little man, so I looked
straight in his eyes as I spoke), 'I will not have her here with her red
stockings and their silver clocks.'

"'Ye've listened to gossip of her,' says he.

"''Twas you yourself that rode after her and the King,