Miss Bretherton

'No,' said Kendal; 'I was beginning to suspect that something absorbing had got hold of you. I've looked for you two or three times at the club, and could not find you.'

'Oh, it's not Miss Bretherton that has taken up my time. She's so busy that nobody can see much of her. But I have taken her and her people out, two or three times, sight-seeing, since they came--Westminster Abbey, the National Gallery, and so forth. She is very keen about everything, and the Worralls--her uncle and aunt--stick to her pretty closely.'

'Where does she come from?'

'Well, her father was the Scotch overseer of a sugar plantation not far from Kingston, and he married an Italian, one of your fair Venetian type--a strange race-combination; I suppose it's the secret of the brilliancy and out-of-the-wayness of the girl's beauty. Her mother