The Highgrader. William MacLeod Raine

would have been easy to read hostility in his bearing, but India sailed past her brother with hand extended. "Glad to meet you, Cousin Jack. 'Member me? Last time you saw me I was a squalling five-year-old."

      The American warmed a trifle. "I remember you, all right. Never saw a kid before so fond of currant jam."

      "Still am. You've improved in your personal appearance. Last time I saw your eye it had been beautifully blacked, kindness of Ned."

      "Fortune of war. My lip was swollen for a week," her brother laughed as he extended his hand.

      "Ned got caned for fighting with a guest. Served him jolly well right," Miss Kilmeny said.

      Joyce sailed forward into the picture gracefully. Her radiant beauty took the Westerner's breath.

      "You'll stay with us for luncheon," she said with soft animation. "For, of course, this is an occasion. Long-lost cousins do not meet every day."

      Verinder, making speechless sounds of protest at this indiscretion, grew very red in the face. Would he have to sit down to eat with a criminal at large?

      Jack hesitated scarcely a second. He could not take his gaze from this superb young creature, whose every motion charmed, whose deep eyes glowed with such a divine warmth of molten gold.

      "Thanks awf'lly, but I really can't stay."

      He bowed to one and another, turned upon Joyce that look of dumb worship she had seen on the faces of many men, and swung off into the pines, as elastic-heeled, confident, and competent a youth as any of them had seen in many a day.

      India's eyes danced. She was Irish enough to enjoy a situation so unusual. "Snubbed, Joyce, by a highwayman," she laughed.

      But Joyce merely smiled. She knew what she knew.

      "If you ask me, he's got the deuce of a cheek, you know," Verinder fumed.

      Miss Kilmeny pounced instantly upon him. "Referring to our cousin, Mr. Verinder?" she demanded sweetly.

      "But—er—you said yourself——"

      "That was all in the family," she informed him promptly.

      Joyce came to the assistance of Verinder with one confidential glance of her incredibly deep eyes of velvet. "Of course he's cheeky. How could he be India's cousin and not be that?" she asked with a rippling little laugh. "Come and help me spread the tablecloth, Mr. Verinder."

      Deeply grateful, the millionaire flew to assist.