I suppressed a start of surprise. I had avoided mention of the boy. Henry had trusted Mrs. Knapp further than I had dreamed. “He shall never be given up by me,” I replied with conviction. “That is spoken like a true, brave man,” said Mrs. Knapp with an admiring look. “Thank you,” I said modestly. “Another life than yours depends on your skill and courage. That must give you strength,” she said softly. “It does indeed,” I replied. I was thinking of Doddridge Knapp's life. “But here come Luella and Mrs. Bowser,” said Mrs. Knapp. “I see I shall lose your company.” My heart gave a great bound, and I turned to see the queenly grace of Luella Knapp as she entered the room in the train of Mrs. Bowser. Vows of justice and vengeance, visions of danger and death, faded away as I looked once more on the mobile, expressive face of the girl who had claimed so great a share of my waking thoughts and filled my dreams from the first moment her spirit had flashed on mine. I rose and my eyes followed her eagerly as I stood by the curtain of the alcove, oblivious of all else in the room. Was it fancy, or had she grown paler and thinner since I had last seen her? Surely those dark hollows under her eyes that told of worry and lost sleep were not there when her brightness had chained my admiration. I could guess that she was grieving for Henry, and a jealous pang shot through my heart. She gave no glance in my direction as she walked into the room and looked about her. I dreaded her eye as I hungered for a look. “Luella!” called Mrs. Knapp. I fancied she gave a low, musical laugh as she spoke, yet a glance showed me that her face was calm and serious. “Luella, here is some one you will like to see.” Luella Knapp turned and advanced. What was the look that lighted up her face and sparkled from her eyes? Before I could analyze the magnetic thrill that came from it, it was gone. A flush passed over her face and died away as she came. “You honor our poor house once more?” she said, dropping a mock courtesy. “I thought you had deserted us.” I was surprised at this line of attack, and for a moment my little army of ideas was thrown into confusion. I felt, rather than heard, the undertone that carried the real meaning of her words. “Not I,” said I stoutly, recovering myself, and holding out my hand. I saw there was a little play to be carried on for the benefit of Mrs. Knapp. For some reason she had not confided in her mother. “Not I. I am always your very humble knight.” I saw that Mrs. Knapp was looking at us curiously, and pressed my advantage. Luella took my hand unwillingly. I was ready to dare a good deal for the clasp of her fingers, but I scarcely felt the thrill of their touch before she had snatched them away. “There's nothing but pretty speeches to be had from you--and quotations at that,” she said. There was malice under the seeming innocence of a pretended pout. “There's nothing that could be so becoming in the circumstances.”