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dress and ran like a beautiful white ghost across the moon-dappled lawn to the house.
     
    Fran saw Katie come in from the terrace and smiled at her as she passed, dancing with a short, rather babyfaced young man who held her with enthusiastic clumsiness. As the dance ended she left her partner and came across to Katie, a questioning expression on her face. “Having fun?” she asked, her freckles reappearing through her light make-up as the evening wore on.
    Katie nodded, but glanced anxiously out across the moonlit gardens as she smiled. “Yes, thank you, Fran,” she said, not altogether convincingly, and saw Fran follow her glance.
    Her fine brows drew into a frown and she put a hand on Katie’s arm. “Is something wrong?” she asked anxiously, and looked around for her cousin. “Where’s Jamie?”
    Katie looked fondly at the coltishly attractive face and smiled reassuringly. “He’s in the garden,” she said lightly. “I think he’s cooling off.”
    “Oh,” a look of understanding and resignation crossed Fran’s face as she looked again out into the garden. “I suppose it’s—oh, bother Jamie!” she finished exasperatedly. “I might have known he’d be up to his tricks if I took my eyes off him for a minute.” She watched her friend’s face anxiously. “I’m sorry, Katie, but I gather you managed to escape; he just can’t resist pretty girls, that’s the trouble. Still,” she smiled her irrepressible smile, “you can manage him.”
    “Actually his brother managed him,” Katie said, wondering if she should have mentioned John Miller’s unexpected appearance.
    “John?” Fran’s blue eyes widened incredulously and then, to Katie’s surprise, she laughed.
    “Fran,” Katie protested, “they were both very angry with each other when I left them. I only hope they don’t—”
    “I hope they do,” Fran interrupted recklessly. “I hope John will knock a little sense into Jamie; but,” she added, “I don’t suppose it will happen. John can handle most things without resorting to violence; he’s very like Janus.”
    “I was rather worried,” Katie admitted. “They both seem so strong-willed.”
    Fran laughed again. “They are,” she said. “All the Dennisons are—it’s a family trait, hadn’t you noticed it?”
    “But they’re Millers,” Katie pointed out, “not Dennisons.”
    “They’re Dennison on their mother’s side,” Fran told her, smiling wryly.
    “She was Janus’s daughter?” Katie wondered if Fran would take exception to her curiosity, but the oddly childlike face smiled, if a little ruefully.
    “She still is,” she said. “She’s married to an American and living in the States.”
    “Oh, I see.” Katie felt it wiser not to say any more, especially since Jamie had just walked in through the french windows, his brown, good-looking face wearing an unusually chastened look. He saw Katie and his cousin and came across to them.
    “Hello,” he said blithely, looking from one to the other of them. Katie felt an insane desire to laugh at his determinedly happy expression, and catching Fran’s eye briefly, she half smiled and a second later both girls exploded into laughter. “Very funny,” Jamie said in injured tones. “I wish you’d let me in on the joke.”
    “Oh, Jamie!” it was Fran, her expression apologetic but her blue eyes still glistening with laughter, who put a hand on his arm. “I'm sorry, but you’re trying so hard not to look sorry for yourself.”
    “Well, I am sorry for myself,” he said, looking at Katie. “First I put my foot in it with Katie, then big brother stepped in and read me a sermon.”
    “You didn’t fight,” Katie said, relieved.
    “You don’t have to fight with John to come off worst,” Jamie said ruefully. “He can talk you into seeing sense—he’s like Janus.”
    ‘For the second time that evening Katie heard John Miller described as being like his grandfather, but she had to admit that she could see no