“Miss Dover, my sick friend was at 'The Golden Star.' That's a small hotel in a different direction from the Kursaal. I was there from seven o'clock till nine. You ask the waiter, if you don't believe me.” Fanny giggled at this inadvertent speech; but Zoe's feelings were too deeply engaged to shoot fun flying. “Fanny” cried she, eagerly, “I heard him tell the coachman to drive him to that very place, 'The Golden Star.'” “Really?” said Fanny, mystified. “Indeed I did, dear. I remember 'The Golden Star' distinctly. “Ladies, I was there till nine o'clock. Then I started for the theater. Unfortunately the theater is attached to the Kursaal. I thought I would just look in for a few minutes. In fact, I don't think I was there half an hour. But Miss Maitland is quite right in one thing. I lost more than two hundred pounds, all through playing on a false system. Of course, I know I had no business to go there at all, when I might have been by your side.” “And heard La Klosking.” “It was devilish bad taste, and you may well be surprised and offended.” “No, no; not at that,” said Zoe. “But hang it all, don't make a fellow worse than he is! Why should I invent a sick friend? I suppose I have a right to go to the Kursaal if I choose. At any rate, I mean to go to-morrow afternoon, and win a pot of money. Hinder me who can.” Zoe beamed with pleasure. “That spiteful old woman! I am ashamed of myself. Of course you _have._ It becomes a man to say _je veux;_ and it becomes a woman to yield. Forgive our unworthy doubts. We will all go to the Kursaal to-morrow.” The reconciliation was complete; and, to add to Zoe's happiness, she made a little discovery. Rosa came in to see if she wanted anything. That, you must know, was Rosa's way of saying, “It is very late. _I_'m tired; so the sooner _you_ go to bed, the better.” And Zoe was by nature so considerate that she often went to bed more for Rosa's convenience than her own inclination. But this time she said, sharply, “Yes, I do. I want to know who had my fire lighted for me in the middle of summer.” “Why, squire, to be sure,” said Rosa. “What--_my_ brother!” “Yes, miss; and seen to it all hisself: leastways, I found the things properly muddled. 'Twas to be seen a man had been at 'em.” Rosa retired, leaving Zoe's face a picture. Just then Vizard put his head cautiously in at the window, and said, in a comic whisper, “Is she gone?” “Yes, she is gone,” cried Zoe, “and you are wanted in her place.” She ran to meet him. “Who ordered a fire in my room, and muddled all my things?” said she, severely. “I did. What of that?” “Oh, nothing. Only now I know who is my friend. Young people, here's a lesson for you. When a lady is out in the rain, don't prepare a lecture for her, like Aunt Maitland, but light her fire, like this dear old duck of a woman-hating impostor. Kiss me!” (violently). “There--pest!” “That is not enough, nor half. There, and there, and there, and there, and there, and there.”