what formal way, for she was not very fond of Mr. Meeson, went on to introduce him. Thereupon, all in a moment, as we do sometimes take such resolutions, Augusta came to a determination. She would have nothing more to do with Mr. Meeson-she would repudiate him then and there come what would of it.

So, as he advanced upon her with outstretched hand, she drew herself up, and in a cold and determined voice said, "I already know Mr. Meeson, Lady Holmhurst; and I do not wish to have anything more to do with him. Mr. Meeson has not behaved well to me."

"Really," murmured Lord Holmhurst to himself, "I don't wonder she has had enough of him. Sensible young woman, that ! "

Lady Holmhurst looked a little astonished and a little amused. Suddenly, however, a light broke upon her.

Oh! I see," she said. "I suppose that Mr. Meeson published Jemima's Vow.' Of course that accounts for it. Why, I declare there is the dinnerbell! Come along, Miss Smithers, or we shall lose the place that the captain has promised us."

Accordingly they went, leaving Mr. Meeson, who had not yet fully realised the unprecedented nature of the position, positively gasping on the deck. And on board the Kangaroo there were no clerks and editors on whom he could wreak his wrath!

And now, my dear Miss Smithers," said Lady Holmhurst, when, dinner being over, they were sitting together in the moonlight, near the wheel, "perhaps you will tell me why you don't like Mr. Meeson, whom, by the

way, I personally detest. But don't, if you don't wish to, you know."

But Augusta did wish to, and then and there she poured her whole sad story into her new-found friend's sympathetic ear; and glad enough the poor girl was to find a confidante to whom she could unbosom her

sorrows.

"Well, upon my word!" said Lady Holmhurst, when she had listened with tears in her eyes to the history of poor little Jeannie's death, "upon my word, of all the horrid men I ever heard of, I think that this publisher of yours is the worst! I will cut him, and get my husband to cut him too. But no, I have a better plan than that. He shall tear up that agreement, so sure as my name is Bessie Holmhurst: he shall tear it up, or-or-" and she nodded her little head with an air of infinite wisdom.

CHAPTER VI

MR. TOMBEY GOES FORWARD

FROM that day forward, the voyage on the Kangaroo, until the last dread catastrophe, was a very happy one for Augusta. Lord and Lady Holmhurst made much of her, and all the rest of the first-class passengers following suit, soon she found herself the most popular character on board. The two copies of her book that chanced to be on the ship were passed on from hand to hand, till they would hardly hang together, and, really, at last, she got quite tired of hearing of her Own creations. But this was not all; Augusta, it will be remembered, was an exceedingly pretty woman, and melancholy as the fact may seem, it still remains a fact that a pretty woman is in the eyes of most people a more interesting object than a man, or than a lady who is not "built that way."

Thus it came to pass that what between her youth, her beauty, her talent, and her misfortunes--for Lady Holmhurst had not exactly kept that history to herself --Augusta was all of a sudden elevated into the position of a perfect heroine. It really almost frightened the poor girl, who had been accustomed to nothing but sorrow, ill-treatment, and grinding poverty, suddenly to find herself in this strange position, with every man on board that great vessel at her beck and call. But she was human, and, therefore, of course she enjoyed it. It is something to one who has wandered for hour

after hour in the wet and melancholy night, suddenly to see the fair dawn breaking and burning overhead, and to know that the worst is over, for now there will be light whereby to set the feet. It is something, even to the most Christian soul, to triumph utterly and completely over the man who has done all in his power to crush and destroy you; whose grasping greed indirectly has been the cause of the death of the person you loved best in the whole round world.

And Augusta did triumph. As the story of Mr. Meeson's conduct to her became known, the little society of the ship-after all, a very fair miniature of society at large-fell away from this publishing prince, and not even the jingling of his money-bags could lure it back. He the great, the practically omnipotent, the owner of two millions, and the hard master of hundreds upon whose toil he battened, was practically cut. Even the clerk, who was going out on a chance of getting a place in a New Zealand bank, would have nothing to say to him. And, what is more, he felt it even more than an ordinary individual would have done. He, the "Printer-devil," as poor little Jeannie used to call him, he to be slighted and flouted by a pack of people whom he could buy up three times over, and all on account of a wretched authoress-an authoress, if you please!

It made Mr. Meeson very wild-a state of affairs which was brought to a climax when one morning Lord Holmhurst, who for several days had been showing a growing dislike to his society, actually almost cut him dead; that is, he did not notice his outstretched hand, and passed him with a slight bow.

'Never mind, my Lord-never mind!" muttered Mr. Meeson, after that somewhat pompous but amiable nobleman's retreating form. We'll see if I can't come square with you. I'm a dog who can pull a string or two in the English press, I am! Those who have the money and have got a hold of people, so that they must write what they tell them, ain't the sort to be cut by any Colonial Governor, my Lord!" And in his anger he fairly shook his fist at the unconscious peer.

Seem to be a little out of temper, Mr. Meeson," said a voice at his elbow, the owner of which was a big young man with hard but kindly features and a large moustache. 'What has the Governor been doing to you?"

"Doing, Mr. Tombey? He's been cutting me, that's all-me, Meeson !-cutting me dead, or something like it. I held out my hand, and he looked right over it, and marched by."

"Ah!" said Mr. Tombey, who was a wealthy New Zealand landowner; "and now, why do you suppose he did that?"

"Why? I'll tell you why. It's all about that girl."

Miss Smithers, do you mean?" said Tombey the big, with a curious flash of his deep-set eyes.

'Yes, Miss Smithers. She wrote a book, and I bought the book for fifty pounds, and stuck a clause in that she should give me the right to publish anything she wrote for five years at a price-a common sort of thing enough in one way and another, when you are dealing with some idiot who don't know any better. Well, as it happened, this book sold like wildfire; and, in time, the young lady comes to me and wants inore