looked about with such evident interest, pointing to the poinsettia leaves, and saying something to Blake as she passed him, that produced a bow of evident acknowledgment of a compliment on the taste of the stewards. Lady Waveryng's eyes went back to Blake in a puzzled sort of way. "Do you know who he is, and if he belongs to the Castle Coola people?" she said to the Governor. "I can't get rid of the impression that I know his face. But I don't know which of the Coola people he could be. All the brothers are dead."
Sir Theophilus Stukeley did not know. He had never met any of the Castle Coola people; always avoided Ireland, and thanked Providence that he had not been born an Irish landlord.
Lady Waveryng laughed. "Oh, but the Coolas are of the landlord type—the rough Tories; at least Lord Coola is at any rate. Waveryng has some fishing near them, and that's how I came to know them. But he has all the traditions. It's so sad that all the sons are dead, and the property must go to some dreadful English lawyer, whom one of the daughters married. It seems quite out of keeping that the Castle, Banshee and all, should go into Sassenach hands. Oh! Mr. Blake, I beg your pardon." She became suddenly conscious that Blake was close to her, and that he was devouring what she said. "I am sure you are one of the Coola people, aren't you? Please tell me are you related to Lord Coola?"
"In a hundredth degree," he answered. "All the Blakes, I suppose, came originally from the Coola stock." He withdrew reflecting that he had involved himself in complications.
The Governor and Lady Waveryng went to the upper end of the room. Lord Waveryng had Lady Stukeley on his arm. Ina came in with the aide-de-camp, and Lord Horace with the private secretary's wife.
"By Jove, that sister-in-law of Horace's beats them all to fits," said Lord Waveryng. "I am going to ask her if she will dance with me." He led Elsie out for the first
