“You ran away?” he exclaimed, coming toward her. “Oh, it can't be a dream. You are there, aren't you?” She was a pitiable object as she stood there, powerless to retreat, shaking like a leaf. He took her by the shoulder. “Yes--it is. Good Lord, what does it mean? What has happened? How did you come here? Are you alone?” “Utterly, miserably alone. Oh, Mr. Shaw!” she cried despairingly. “You _will_ understand, won't you?” “Never! Never as long as I live. It is beyond comprehension. The wonderful part of it all is that I was sitting in there dreaming of you--yes, I was. I heard some one out here, investigated and found you--_you_, of all people in the world. And I was dreaming that I held you in my arms. Yes, I was! I was dreaming it--” “Mr. Shaw! You should n't--” “And I awoke to find you--not in my arms, not in Bazelhurst Villa, but here--here on my porch.” “Like a thief in the night,” she murmured. “What _do_ you think of me?” “Shall I tell you--really?” he cried. The light in his eyes drove her back a step or two, panic in her heart. “N--no, no--not now!” she gasped, but a great wave of exaltation swept through her being. He turned and walked away, too dazed to speak. Without knowing it, she followed with hesitating steps. At the edge of the porch he paused and looked into the darkness. “By Jove, I _must_ be dreaming,” she heard him mutter. “No, you are not,” she declared desperately. “I _am_ here. I ask your protection for the night. I am going away--to England--to-morrow. I could n't stay there--I just could n't. I'm sorry I came here--I'm--” “Thank heaven, you _did_ come,” he exclaimed, turning to her joyously. “You are like a fairy--the fairy princess come true. It's unbelievable! But--but what was it you said about England?” he concluded, suddenly sober. “I am go--going home. There's no place else. I can't live with her,” she said, a bit tremulously. “To England? At once? Your father--will he--?” “My father? I have no father. Oh!” with a sudden start Her eyes met his in a helpless stare. “I never thought. My home was at Bazelhurst Castle--their home. I can't go there. Good heavens, what am I to do?” A long time afterward she recalled his exultant exclamation, checked at its outset,--recalled it with a perfect sense of understanding. With rare good taste he subdued whatever it was that might have struggled for expression and simply extended his right hand to relieve her of the lantern.