it is a curious fact that melbourne has, in its social and business aspects, a strong leaven of americanism, and visitors from the great republic find themselves quite at home in the metropolis of the south. there are the same bold, speculative qualities, the same restless pursuit of pleasure, and the same rapidity and promptness of action which characterises the citizen of san francisco or new york. consequently, there are many americans to be found in a city so congenial to their tastes, and of these hiram j. fenton was one.

he had come over from the states as the agent of a dry-goods firm, and, travelling all through the australasian colonies, soon saw the enormous capabilities of wealth that lay before him. gifted with a ready tongue and a persuasive manner, he interested several opulent victorians in a scheme for floating a life insurance company. a prospectus was drawn up, which promised incalculable wealth to those who would take shares, and, by means of mr. fenton's brilliant command of words, and skilful manipulation of figures, the never-say-die insurance company soon became an accomplished fact. a handsome suite of offices was taken in collins' street, a large staff of clerks engaged, a genial medical man, whose smile itself was a recommendation, remained on the premises to examine intending policy-holders, and the emissaries of the company went to the four quarters of the globe to trumpet forth the praises of the affair, and persuade people to insure their lives. the company prospered, a handsome dividend was soon declared, and, thanks to his yankee sharpness, mr. fenton now found himself occupying the enviable position of manager with a large salary.

he was a handsome man in a bold, sensual way, with a certain dash and swagger about him which impressed strangers favourably, but a physiognomist would have mistrusted his too ready tongue and the keen glance of his eye. there is no greater mistake than to suppose a villain cannot meet an honest eye, for, as a matter of fact, a successful villain having his nerves under admirable control can stare any one out of countenance, and the keen, rapid glance can take in at once the weak points of a stranger.

mr. fenton occupied pleasant apartments, went into society a great deal, and altogether was a very popular man. cold, calculating, and far-seeing as he was, he had yet a weak spot in his character, and this was extreme partiality for the female sex. any woman, provided she was pretty, could twist him round her finger; and as kitty marchurst now had him in her toils, she took full advantage of his infatuation. there was a certain amount of notoriety in being the lover of the now famous caprice; but fenton had to pay pretty dearly for his position. kitty spent his money like water, and when he ventured to remonstrate, laughed in his face, and told him he could go if he liked, an intimation which only made him resolve to stick closer to her. nevertheless, about this time relations were rather strained between them, and any one knowing the facts of the case would have seen that the end was not far off.

as to evan malton, he was fenton's assistant manager, and was the moon to the astute american's sun. weak, irresolute, and foolish, he was, nevertheless, by some strange contradiction, a capital business man. this arose from his long training in office work; he could do nothing by himself, but guided by fenton, he made an admirable subordinate, and was amenable to his superior in every way. he admired fenton greatly, copied him in his dress and mannerisms, affected a rakish demeanour towards his friend's mistress, and thoroughly neglected his poor wife, a neglect of which fenton tried to take advantage. had malton known this, it would doubtless have changed his feelings towards the american, for though he thought he was justified in leading a fast life, he strongly objected to his wife showing any liking for any one but himself. fenton, however, believing in no woman's virtue, did not despair, but protected kitty openly, to delude malton into a false security, and made love to mrs. malton sub rosa.

it was quite warm out of doors in spite of the season, and out on kitty's lawn were a group of people laughing and talking together. kitty, in a comfortable chair, was chatting to keith and ezra, who had just arrived, and there were several other ladies present, including milly maxwell, who was the second lady at the bon-bon--dark-browed, majestic, and passionate; dora avenant, who looked like a doll and had the brains of one; and mrs. wadby, who wrote scandal and dresses for the penny whistle under the nom de plume of "baby."

as to the gentlemen, there were present ted mortimer, bland and smiling; slingsby, the parliamentary reporter; delp, the theatrical critic; toltby, the low comedian at the bon-bon, and about half-a-dozen others, who were more or less connected with the stage and the press. the men were smoking, chatting, or drinking, according to their various tastes, whilst the ladies were sipping their afternoon tea; and, of course, the conversation was mostly about theatrical matters.

in the drawing-room, however, close to the window, sat meg, buried in a big armchair, reading a fairy tale, and a pretty picture she made with her little loose white dress, and her glorious hair falling about her pale face.

"and the beautiful princess," read meg in ecstasy, "fell asleep in the magic castle for one hundred years--oh!" breaking off suddenly, "how hungry she must have been when she woke up."

meg shook her head over this problem and resumed the story.

"and a great forest grew round the castle, which could not be got through till the handsome prince arrived." here the drawing-room door opened, and meg looked up, half expecting to see the handsome prince.

it was only fenton, however, and he disliked meg intensely, a dislike which that young person was by no means backward in returning, so she went calmly on reading her book.

"well, where's mother?" asked fenton, in his slightly nasal voice, looking at the little figure with a frown.

"mumsey's in the garden," replied meg with great dignity, flinging back her curls.

"just where you ought to be," said fenton ill-naturedly, "getting fresh air."

"i'm reading a fairy tale," explained meg, closing her book; "mumsey said i could do what i liked."

"your mother don't rear you well," retorted the american, and he walked away, when a peal of laughter made him turn round.

"what funny faces you make," said the child; "i feel quite laughy."

"i'd like to spank you," observed fenton, with no very amiable expression of countenance.

"you're a bad man," said meg indignantly; "i don't know a badder--not a bit like my mr. keith."

"oh," sneered fenton, "and who is mr. keith?"

"he is a very nice gentleman," replied meg, pursing up her lips; "he stopped the wheels going over me."

"i wish he hadn't," muttered fenton vindictively. "meg, go and tell mother i want her right away."

"i sha'n't," retorted meg obstinately; "you're a rude man."

"i'll make you smart," said fenton, catching her arm.

"oh, mumsey," cried the child, in a tone of relief, and fenton turned just to see kitty looking at him like an enraged tigress.

"you lay a finger on my child," she said viciously, "and i'll kill you!"

the american released his hold on meg with an awkward laugh, and took a seat.

"why don't you teach her manners," he growled.

"that's my business," flashed out kitty haughtily. "and now you are here, i wish to speak with you. meg, my treasure, run out and say mumsey won't be long."

"mumsey's going to be cross with you now," said meg consolingly to fenton, and then ran out laughing, the man looking angrily after her.

left alone, kitty sat down near fenton and began to talk.

"i asked you for five hundred," she said coldly.

"yes--and i refused," sulkily.

"so i saw by your letter. what is your reason?"

"that's my business."

"mine also. why did you refuse?" she reiterated.

"i'm sick of your extravagance."

caprice laughed in a sneering way that brought the blush to his cheek.

"do you think i'm dependent on you for money?" she said, with scorn. "i know fifty better men than you who would give me the money if i asked them."

"then go and ask them," he returned brutally.

kitty sprang to her feet.

"of course i will; that means your dismissal."

fenton caught at her dress in genuine alarm.

"no, no! don't go; you know i love you--"

"so well," she interrupted, "that you refuse me a paltry five hundred pounds."

"i would give it to you, but i haven't got it."

"then get it," she said coolly.

"i'm nearly ruined," he cried desperately.

"then retire, and make room for better men."

"you're a devil!" hissed fenton.

"no doubt. i told you what to expect when i first met you."

"do you mean to say you will throw me over because i've no money left?" he said fiercely, grasping her wrist.

"like an old glove," she retorted.

"i'll kill you first."

"bah! you are melodramatic."

"oh, kitty, kitty!" with a sudden change to tenderness.

"don't call me by that name," said the woman, in a low, harsh voice. "kitty marchurst is dead; she died when she went on the stage, and all womanly pity died with her. you are speaking to caprice, the most notorious woman in melbourne."

fenton sat sullenly silent, glancing every now and then at her beautiful, scornful face.

"if you won't give me money," she said at length, mindful of her promise to mrs. malton, "you can do something else."

"what's that?" eagerly.

"mrs. malton was here--"

"mrs. malton!" he interrupted, springing to his feet. "what did she say?"

"several unpleasant things about your love for her," said kitty coolly.

"it's a lie," he began, but kitty shrugged her shoulders.

"bah! i'm not jealous; i only care for your money, not for you. but about this visit; her husband has embezzled money in your office."

fenton turned a little pale, and looked steadily at her.

"embezzled money, the scoundrel!" he said furiously.

"yes, isn't he?" said kitty derisively. "not a noble, upright gentleman like hiram fenton."

he turned from her with an oath.

"i've been a good friend to him right along," he said in an angry tone. "he was fixed up for life, if he'd only behaved himself; now i'll put him in prison."

"so that you can make love to his wife," retorted kitty coolly.

"i don't care two straws about his wife," replied fenton, with a scowl. "you are the only woman i love."

"then promise me to help this unhappy man?"

"certainly not; you are asking me to compound a felony."

"i'm not a lawyer," she said coldly, "and don't understand legal terms. i am only asking you to save him from gaol for his wife's sake."

"you don't love him?" jealously.

"bah! do i love any one except myself?"

"and your child," with a sneer.

"let my child be. will you help evan malton?"

"no; the law must take its course."

"then i'll help him myself."

"but how?"

"that's my business--the money must be replaced--find out how much is missing, and let me know."

"what's the good? you've not got the cash."

"do what i ask!"

"very well!" sulkily. "i can't pay the money myself; but i'll give him time to repay it."

"you will?"

"yes; and kitty," shamefacedly, "i'll let you have that five hundred.'

"good boy," said kitty approvingly, and laughed. she had gained both her points, so could afford to do so. at this moment meg entered the room from the garden, followed by keith, on seeing whom fenton's face darkened.

"mumsey!" said meg, bounding up to kitty, "i've given him the knife, and he says it's lovely--don't you," turning to keith.

"words fail me to express my appreciation," said stewart, with a smile, looking at the large--very large ivory-handled knife, "and it's got an inscription, 'from meg,'--beautiful."

"it will cut love, mr. stewart," said kitty, with a laugh.

"oh, no," interposed meg, "he's given me a lucky sixpence. he says we're engaged now, and when i grow up, mumsey, i'm going to marry him."

"is this true?" asks kitty gaily. "are you going to rob me of my daughter? this is dreadful! what do you say, mr. fenton?"

mr. fenton smiled in a ghastly manner, then hurried away muttering under his breath.

"it's bad temper," observed stewart, looking after him.

"no, my dear," said kitty airily, "it's jealousy."