"It is not to see me--I cannot see anybody!" she stammered, crimsoning the while. And then a few hurried questions were put by Janet, and replied to by D. Wragg, the result being that hand-in-hand the young girls entered the little back-room,--Patty's face flushing a still deeper crimson upon finding that Harry Clayton was already there, and standing with his back to the window. "I was so completely taken by surprise," exclaimed Harry, eagerly advancing with outstretched hand, "that I hardly knew--" He stopped short, for he saw in the manner in which Patty drew back how thoroughly she read his heart. He was ashamed of his past weakness, that would not own her before his friend; and with burning face and beating heart, Patty, ready to burst into tears though she was, held herself aloof. "He would not know her then," she said to herself; "he should not know her now." It was all at an end, and the old childish dream must be forgotten altogether. What Patty would have said, what more Harry Clayton would have whispered in excuse, it is impossible to say; for while Janet scanned first one face and then the other, D. Wragg whispered, from just inside the shop, where he had gone to respond to a summons, "Here's your friend come back. I ain't told him as you're here. Don't you make no mistake; but shall I ask him in, too?" For a moment Harry Clayton's face was troubled, but the next instant he had recovered himself. "Yes, Mr Wragg," he said, quietly, "ask him to come in," and the rough head of the dealer was drawn back into the shop. If possible Patty's flush grew deeper, and lines began to make their appearance in the forehead of Harry Clayton, as he scrutinised the young girl attentively, while a few words were heard in the shop. Directly after, in a cool, insolent fashion, and with a smile upon his face, Lionel Redgrave sauntered in; but the smile faded on the instant as he saw who stood beside the door. The blood mounted to his boyish temples, and for a while youthful ingenuousness had the full sway. He soon laughed it off, assuming the cool easy way of the man-about-town, and speaking lightly, he exclaimed-- "Quite a _contretemps_! I am rather late in the field, it seems. I was not aware that Mr Harry Clayton was turning gay. Not the first saint who has carried the world beneath his sackcloth. Good morning all!" "Stop," cried Harry, hastily, and he struggled to speak all he knew, and tell of the previous meeting at Norwood, but his courage failed. "Stop a moment! My visit here was for the purpose of giving advice." "Cheap, and always plenty on supply," sneered Lionel. "--Of uttering a few words of warning." "Exactly; to practise the part of mentor to the young. Rather selfish, though, Harry--rather selfish. Shouldn't have thought it of you!" "What do you mean?"