somewhere, and her maid had been so upset with sea-sickness that she would have to go and do her own unpacking.
They started off. Horace with them. Lady Waveryug kissed her hand as she turned the Ferry Hill, and walked along leaning on her silver-mounted stick, looking in her neat tailor-made dress and dainty hat, Elsie thought, unapproachably simple and thoroughbred.
"You see, Ina, you needn't have been frightened of them," said Elsie.
"They're coming to the Dell," said Ina. "They say that they're longing to do some Bush travelling. Lady Waveryng wants to hunt kangaroos. She says I must call her 'Em.' We are to dine at Government House this evening—a family party; and, oh! Elsie, I am so sorry, but you'll arrange to go with the Prydes or Mrs. Jem Hallett, won't you, to the club ball, and wait for me in the cloak room?"
"The Club Ball?" said Elsie. "Oh! I had forgotten." And in truth her heart and mind had been too full for the thought even of a ball to find a place there. "It doesn't matter," she said. "Yes, I'll arrange somehow."
"And your bouquet, Elsie," said Ina. "Do you think Mr. Blake will send you one this time?"
"No," exclaimed Elsie, almost fiercely—"he will not send me one. Why should he? Let us go over to the gardens, Ina, and beg some azaleas and camellias from the curator."
She did not get back to Riverside till her verandah reception hour. She had a wild fancy that Blake might be there waiting for her. Ministers were not tied to their offices like the humble fry of civil servants and bank clerks. The bank clerks were there—and Dominic Trant was there, but no Blake.
It was Trant who brought her a bouquet; and a very beautiful one of tea roses and maidenhair fern and crimson double geranium. He had been at some pains to find out from Lady Horace what Elsie's colours were to be.
No other bouquet had come, and she said she would wear
