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Nedra   By: (1866-1928)

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Author of Beverly of Graustark , Brewster's Millions , etc.

Illustrations by Harrison Fisher




I The Inspiration II The Beginning of Flight III The First Obstacle IV Ready for the Sea V Mr. and Miss Ridge Sail for Manila VI Henry Veath VII Glum Days for Mr. Ridge VIII The Beautiful Stranger IX Mr. Ridegway's Amazement X A Sharp Encounter XI Discovered XII The Harlequin's Errand XIII The Confession of Veath XIV One Love against Another XV The Wreck of the Tempest Queen XVI The Night and the Morning XVII Was the Sea Kind? XVIII The Wonderful Land XIX The First Day in the Wilds XX The Sign of Distress XXI Gods from the Sea XXII Flesh Succeeds Stone XXIII The Transformation Begins XXIV Nedra XXV The Coming of the Enemy XXVI On the Eve of Battle XXVII The Lady Tennys Reserve XXVIII To the Victor Belongs ? XXIX The Other Surrender XXX Where There is No Minister XXXI The Wedding Ring XXXII The Cruiser Winnetka XXXIII Apparitions XXXIV The Course of True Love XXXV History Repeats Itself


Lady Tennys (Frontispiece)

Grace Vernon

"'Lady Tennys ... You do not know how I thank God you are alive'"

"'Hey, there!' he yelled. 'How are you?'"

"'They have killed you! Let them kill me!'"



A tall young man sped swiftly up the wide stone steps leading to the doorway of a mansion in one of Chicago's most fashionable avenues. After pushing the button sharply he jerked out his watch and guessed at the time by the dull red light from the panel in the door. Then he hastily brushed from the sleeve of his coat the telltale billiard chalk, whose presence reminded him that a general survey might be a wise precaution. He was rubbing a white streak from his trousers' leg when the door flew open and the butler admitted him to the hallway. This personage relieved him of his hat, coat and stick and announced:

"Miss Vernon is w'itin' for you, sir."

"How the devil did I happen to let eight o'clock strike nine before I knew it?" muttered the visitor. He was at the drawing room door as he concluded this self addressed reproach, extending both hands toward the young woman who came from the fireplace to meet him.

"How late you are, Hugh," she cried, half resentfully. He bent forward and kissed her.

"Late? It isn't late, dear. I said I couldn't come before eight, didn't I? Well, it's eight, isn't it?"

"It's nearly seventy minutes past eight, sir. I've been waiting and watching the hands on the clock for just sixty minutes."

"I never saw such a perfect crank about keeping time as that grandfatherly clock of yours. It hasn't skipped a second in two centuries, I'll swear. You see, I was playing off the odd game with Tom Ditton."

He dropped lazily into a big arm chair, drove his hands into his pockets and stretched out his long legs toward the grate.

"You might have come at eight, Hugh, on this night if no other. You knew what important things we have to consider." Miss Vernon, tall and graceful, stood before him with her back to the fire. She was exceedingly pretty, this girl whom Hugh had kissed.

"I'm awfully sorry, Grace; but you know how it is when a fellow's in a close, hard game especially with a blow hard like Tom Ditton."

"If I forgive you again, I'm afraid you'll prove a begging husband."

"Never! Deliver me from a begging husband. I shall assert all kinds of authority in my house, Miss Vernon, and you'll be in a constant state of beggary yourself. You'll have to beg me to get up in the morning, beg me to come home early every night, beg me to swear off divers things, beg me to go to church, beg me to buy new hats for you, beg me to eat things you cook, beg me to "

"I suppose I shall even have to beg you to kiss me," she cried.

"Not at all. That is one thing I'll beg of you. Lean over here, do, and kiss me, please," he said invitingly... Continue reading book >>

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