It was good to know that there was Cynthia to talk to--Cynthia, who might not be able to advise and strengthen as wisely as mother did, but who was a girl, and knew how girls felt--"up and down, and in and out, and--oh, and so topsy-turvy upside down!" thought poor Betty to herself. A breathless, "I want to speak to you; I have something dreadfully interesting to tell!" whispered in a chance encounter in the street, brought an immediate invitation to tea `in my own room, where we shan't be bothered'; and under these happy auspices the adventure was once more related, while Cynthia's grey eyes grew wide with excitement. "Dear Betty, how glorious for you!" she cried ecstatically. "What a wonderful thing to remember! You can never be blue again, and say that you are no use in the world. To have saved a man's life, and started him on the right road--at eighteen--not eighteen! You are the most fortunate girl in the whole world! It's so strange that this chance should have come to you on that particular day, because your brother and I had been talking about the different work of men and women as we walked over the Park to the Albert Hall, and he said that if it was men's province to make the greatest things in the world, it was women's work to make the men; and that was what you did, Betty dear. You helped God to make a man!" Betty raised her brows in a surprise which was not altogether agreeable. "Miles--_Miles_ said so! How extraordinary! He never talks like that to me, and he hardly knew you at all. However did you come to discuss such a subject?" "I asked him about his work, and envied him for being able to do something real. He is a nice boy. I like him very much," said Cynthia placidly. Imagine being favoured with confidences from Miles, and remaining quite cool and unconcerned! For a good two moments Betty forgot all about her own affairs in sheer wonder at such an astonishing state of mind. Then remembrance came back, and she asked eagerly-- "Cynthia, do you think I shall ever hear anything more about him? Mother says it will take years and years to save so much money. Do you think I shall ever know?" "Yes!" said Cynthia confidently. "Of course you will know. He will find some way of telling you. You told him your address, so it was the easiest thing in the world to find out your name. You will get something from him every year--perhaps on Christmas Day, perhaps in summer, perhaps on the anniversary of the night. It may be only a newspaper, it may be a letter, it may be just a flower--like the man in _The Prisoner of Zenda_ sent to the princess, but it will be _something_! He mayn't sign his name or give his address, but he will want you to know--he will feel you ought to know that he is alive and remembering." Oh, the beauty of a girl confidante! How truly she understands the art of comfort! "And shall I ever see him again?"