He studied the beautiful face of the lonely
child from the school-girl photograph, and decided, in spite of
hideous frocks and a lack of conventional war paint, that she was
a rare beauty.
"Yes! She will do--with the money. All she needs is the art to show
off her points, and that is easily gained. The recruits in Vanity
Fair easily pick up the tricks of society, and old Hugh's money and
prospective elevation will surely draw suitors around like flies
swarming near the honey." The boat gracefully glided in to the port
of Ouchy before Major Hawke's day dream faded away.
A flattering dream which led him on to a future gilded by Sir Hugh
Johnstone's money. He longed to ruffle it bravely with the best.
To hold up his head once more in official circles, and to smother
the ugly floating memories ef a renegade who had served those English
guns under the fierce Sikkim hill tribes against his one-time fellow
soldiers. "I must have that money, with or without the girl! There
must be a way to it! I will cut through the barriers to get it!"
There was a steely glitter in his blue eyes as he murmured: "Now
for the fox's hide! She shall have her way--for a time! My play
comes on later, when the deal is with me!"
He sprang lightly ashore, and was chatting with the gold-banded
porter of the Hotel Faucon, when a lovely face, thrilling in its
awakened emotion, met his glance at the window of a carriage.
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