Roy sat musing over the perplexities of ordinary life. Here was he with more money than he knew what to do with, and here was the woman he loved struggling in vain to earn a few shillings. Yet, the mere fact that he worshiped her made him chivalrously careful to avoid laying her under any obligation. As far as possible he would serve her, but in this vital question of money it seemed that he could only stand aside and watch her efforts. Nor did he dare to confess the truth to her as yet, for he perceived quite plainly that she was absorbed in Frithiof, and could not possibly for some time to come be free even to consider her own personal life. Clearly at present she regarded him with that frank friendliness which he remembered well at Balholm, and in his helpfulness had discerned nothing that need be construed as the attentions of a lover. After all he was her brother’s sole friend in England, and it was natural enough that he should do all that he could for them. “My father and mother come home to-night,” he said at length, “and if you will allow me I will ask them if they know of anything likely to suit you. Cecil will be very anxious to meet you again. Don’t you think you might go for a drive with her to-morrow afternoon? I would be here with your brother.” “Oh, I should so like to meet her again,” said Sigrid, “we all liked her so much last summer. I don’t feel that I really know her at all yet, for she is not very easy to know, but she interested me just because of that.” “I don’t think any one can know Cecil who has not lived with her,” said Roy, “she is so very reserved.” “Yes; at first I thought she was just gentle and quiet without very much of character, but one day when we were out together we tried to get some branches of willow. They were so stiff to break that I lazily gave up, but she held on to hers with a strong look in her face which quite startled me, and said, ‘I can’t be beaten just by a branch.’” “That is Cecil all over,” said Roy, smiling; “she never would let anything daunt her. May I tell her that you will see her to-morrow?” Sigrid gladly assented, and the next day both Mrs. Boniface and Cecil drove to the little house at Vauxhall. Roy brought Sigrid down to the carriage, and with a very happy, satisfied feeling introduced her to his mother, and watched the warm meeting with Cecil. “I can’t think what would have become of Frithiof if it had not been for all your kindness,” said Sigrid. “Your son has practically saved his life, I am sure, by taking care of him through this illness.” “And the worst is over now, I hope,” said Mrs. Boniface. “That is such a comfort.”