and so why should n't they? He was going to cut the boy off with a shilling. The rascal was everything he should n't be. He did this, and he did that; he was bossy, and cocky, and self-assertive; he wanted to be first in everything, even before his own father.

Mrs. Sterling raised her big, blue eyes to the raging and fuming parent, and with a sweet smile said softly, "A regular chip of the old block, eh?"

But then she looked so pretty, and seemed somehow to be conveying a subtle compliment to the old gentleman, and that made all the difference.

Ting-a-ling! ting-a-ling! ting-a-ling!

Some few minutes later, with the train of her holoku over her arm, she hurried across the lawn to the handsome house on the next lot.

"Kukulani!" she called.

Kukulani, a sweet-looking, rather stout young woman, dressed in a white holoku, which set off her dark skin and eyes, came out on the back porch and seated herself on the railing to await her friend.

"Is the Monowai in dock?" she asked, raising her musical voice as Mrs. Sterling reached the gate.

"Yes, the Monowai is in," replied Mrs. Sterling. "An old school-friend of mine and her husband have arrived," she added,

as she reached the porch and sat down panting. "She just telephoned me from the hotel. She is not going to stay over; they are traveling around the world. But the Monowai does n't sail until midnight, and so I invited them to dinner. I told her, of course, that I could not get any one to meet her at this late hour. I wish that you and Joe were not going out to dine."

"I'm sorry," said Kukulani. "Well, can I do anything to help? I'll go to market for you, if you like. Don't you want Negano or Ichi to wait on the table? What is your friend's name?

وو

"She was Louise Courtlandt. The Courtlandts are well known in New York. She's a great swell, heirlooms galore,

family plate, ancestors by Sir Peter Lely, and so forth. She is very conventional, and she married a wealthy New York man. She is now Mrs. J. Oakley Van Huysten."

"Oh my!" said Kukulani, with the utmost calm. "All that? Well, we must show them that Honolulu is not a howling wilderness, eh?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Sterling. "The drawbacks of life in the tropics shall not appear. I'll represent housekeeping in roseate hues. I won't let them know that we have no caterers and have to do our own decorating. If I draw on my imagination just a little, you know,- eh?"

Kukulani's musical laugh interrupted

her.

"I'm rather sorry I asked them," resumed Mrs. Sterling thoughtfully, after a moment. "They won't understand my picnicking Waikiki life; they will think I live in a manner little above the Irish peasant with his chickens and pigs wandering in to meals. Eating outdoors - no dining-room, no parlor! O, Kukulani, they will go home and say that I have deteriorated! Why did n't I think before I asked them? O, this awful habit of hospitality that I have contracted in the Islands!" Mrs. Sterling groaned. "Kukulani!" she exclaimed, "lend me your house for to-night! My carriage is going for the Van Huystens, and I can give orders to drive them here, instead of to my own house. You and Joe are going out to dinner. So lend me the whole place, servants, dining-room, parlor, all—”

"Why, of course," said Kukulani tranquilly," and the chocolate cake, too."

"O, you dear, you have saved my life! cried Mrs. Sterling with a sigh of utter relief.

"Nonsense!" rejoined Kukulani. "Is it not our boast that we are as one big family here in Hawaii and always ready to help each other when we are in pilikia? You would do the same for me, eh? We are true kamaainas,2 that's all. Now what are you going to have for dinner?"

Together they planned the menu. kulani made some delicious mayonnaise dressing. Then she went down town in her carriage, and came back with alligator-pears, delicious fresh mullet, taro and bananas to bake, and a lot of good

things besides. She had stopped at a friend's house and gathered a mass of the gorgeous, crimson Ponsiana Regia, to decorate the table. Its tropical splendor could not fail to impress even the pampered Van Huystens. So thought Mrs. Sterling, as she gazed with pride at the dainty table, and around the big cool dining-room, with its carved high-backed chairs, its massive sideboard laden with cut glass and silver, and its softly-shaded lights, and then out through the blinddoors opening to the broad veranda, hung with gay Japanese lanterns and luxurious with divans, hammocks, and easy chairs, long-leafed ferns, spreading palms and thickly-climbing vines giving a cool touch of green here and there.

Yes, she was glad that she had borrowed Kukulani's house. As she heard carriage wheels approaching, she went out on the veranda, and no doubt her sense of perfect content lent additional warmth to her greeting.

The Van Huystens proved most satisfactory guests. They were enthusiastic over everything,- the climate, the picturesque cocoanut-trees, the luxuriant foliage, the awe-inspiring view from the Pali, to the summit of which they had been driven during the afternoon, the grace of the native women, and last, but not least, Waikiki. They were delighted with alligatorpears, and they liked taro. But in spite of their appreciative remarks, she felt thankful as the perfection of manner and dress of these faultless, swell-looking New Yorkers once more became apparent to her that she had provided a

conven

tional setting for them. She beamed at them and looked her prettiest in her thin, gauzy white gown, with one big flame-color tropical blossom, nodding on her shoulder.

"Tulu," she said, without turning, to the figure behind her chair, "give Mr. Van Huysten another piece of taro. It's so nice of you to think taro good, Mr. Van Huysten. We can't count on strangers liking it. Tulu! Tulu!"

Then she turned and beheld the irreproachable Negano, buttoned to the chin in his spotless, white suit, his impassive demeanor unruffled. Always alert at the mention of his own name, he was oblivious at other times, and above all stolid at any

allusion to Tulu, to whose charms he was not indifferent.

Mrs. Sterling colored. "Negano, give gentleman taro," she murmured, and Negano flew to obey.

Then as she felt the color mounting to her brow, she reflected that her guilty conscience alone had made her lose her self-possession, and this helped her to regain it.

"My maid, Tulu, is with me so much," she said smilingly to Mr. Van Huysten, "it will be a wonder if I don't call you Tulu before the end of the dinner." She was quite herself again, and chatted

and quite fat lady, unmistakably Hawaiian by birth. Mrs. Sterling's blood ran exceedingly cold; for Kukulani was a half-white and this was her mother, of the royal line of Kamehameha, it was true, but, of course, to the untutored Van Huysten eye this royalty might not be apparent. Good heavens! not a photograph of her own family about; not one of her dearly loved relatives, not one of her old New York friends,- all the pictures and photographs in her lanai. How could she have forgotten to bring up a few? And Mrs. Van Huysten with her family pride, her ancestors by Lely!

gaily on, with all her usual animation. Everything was going so smoothly, and the dinner was delicious.

"Yes, I miss the dear old days of royalty," she was saying. "Although I am an American, I must acknowledge I enjoyed the pomp and ceremony, even if it was an opera-bouffe court.' Now there are no more balls at the Palace, no more"

She paused as she followed Mr. Van Huysten's eyes, which were fastened upon a painting on the wall opposite, of a dusky

66

Have you ever heard the story of Kapiolani, a chiefess of early times?" she murmured. "She was a true heroine. When converted to Christianity by the missionaries, she determined to show that she no longer believed in the idolatrous religion of her race. So, although it was tabu for a woman to go near the crater of Kilauea, she defied Pele, the Goddess of the Volcano, and stayed all one night at the brink of the crater, against the almost frenzied opposition of her husband and friends, who thought she would be swal

color mounted to her brow. Are you going to Japan before you go home?" she continued.

"Yes indeed," answered Mr. Van Huy

sten.

Mrs. Sterling's spirits sank.

“Well you 'll see they have ways then," she murmured vaguely. "It's very warm to-night. Tulu,—I mean Negano,-please give me fan."

But the Van Huystens did n't think it uncomfortably warm, and they did not groan over the mosquitoes, which were undeniable and generally most attentive to strangers. They assured their hostess that in all their travels they felt convinced they could not come upon a more charming spot than Honolulu. What hostess, no matter how sore her trials, could fail to revive under such soothing treatment? Mrs. Sterling did revive, and was all dimples and smiles once more.

“Ku-ku-la-ni,—Hawaiian, I presume?" said Mr. Van Huysten, picking up a large and handsome spoon, lying near him on the table.

"What does it mean?" asked his wife, politely interested

Mrs Sterling's smile froze upon her lips. How could she have been so careless?

"Kukulani," she repeated, and even across the table she could see the letters engraved upon the handle in plain script. Who was it that had said it was possible to live a lifetime in a minute, or was it original with herself? "Kukulani," she said weakly, and as that lady rose before her she felt a murderous inclination toward her, although to be just it was not her fault-" Kukulani,-well how can I tell you? The native language is most difficult to translate; one word

may

have several different meanings. Now, take aloha,—it may mean 'how do you do?' or 'good-by,' or love, or greeting, or regards, and I don't know what else. Aloha oe is a little more intense, and aloha nui is downright affectionate."

The Van Huystens were all attention. Mr. Van Huysten opened his mouth.

"And," continued Mrs. Sterling hastily, "it really is remarkable how the natives mix English and Hawaiian words in their songs. If you will come out on the veranda, we will have coffee there. It is so

VOL. XXXV — 2

much cooler outside. I will get my

ukulele and sing you a verse or two, and you will see what I mean."

The Van Huystens followed her to the veranda, and lightly sweeping the strings of the ukulele with the tips of her fingers, she sang a popular melody full of the soft minor tone and plaintive sweetness peculiar to the music of Hawaii.

"It's charming!" cried Mrs. Van Huysten, as she paused.

"Do sing another," begged Mr. Van Huysten. And so delighted did he appear that his hostess presented him with her tiny ukulele as a typical memento from Hawaii.

Kukulani was quite forgotten.

After all, it had paid. She had had moments of suffering; but what of that? The Spartan boy had not concealed his anguish better than she, and now she lay back in her chair, sipping her coffee with a happy feeling of compensation.

"I am going to take you for a drive," she said a little later. "I don't want you to go away from Honolulu until you have had a moonlight drive. Then I will leave you at the steamer, if you wish."

"There was some talk of the Monowai waiting over until to-morrow afternoon," said Mr. Van Huysten, as he lit a cigarette. "Something the matter with her shaft, I believe," he continued.

"If we should be detained, we shall have a chance to call on you before we sail and show a little of our appreciation of your charming hospitality," added Mrs. Van Huysten.

"Impossible!" gasped poor Mrs. Sterling, as a picture of the Van Huystens driving up to the Allen residence, with Kukulani and her husband making a tableau of charming domestic felicity on the lawn, rose before her. "I mean the shaft. I'll ask Central: I can't. believe that the Monowai's shaft has gone wrong."

She did not totter from the veranda, she reflected afterwards, though her knees did feel weak.