"You shall not recant," he said laughingly; "for your own sake, I dare not allow it. A young woman who so rashly espouses the cause of a swain, simply because he has the prospect of a pair of handcuffs staring him in the face, is unreliable, sadly out of balance. She needs a guardian and I--" "Need an occupation," retorted Winnie, maliciously. "Don't doom yourself to gray hairs, sir; repent." "It's too late," he declared; and they ceased to argue the question. * * * * * They would have _feted_ Stanhope and made much of him at Warburton Place, for Alan did not hesitate to pronounce such a man the peer of any. But the young detective was perversely shy. He came one day, and received Leslie's thanks and praises, blushing furiously the while, and conducting himself in anything but a courageous manner. Once he accepted Alan's invitation to a dinner, in which the Follingsbees, Mr. Parks and Mr. Ainsworth participated. But he took no further advantages of their cordially-extended hospitality, and he went about his duties, not quite the same Dick Stanhope as of yore. On her part, Leslie was very reticent when Stanhope and his exploits were the subject of discussion, although, when she spoke of him, it was always as the best and bravest of men. "Parks talks of returning to England," said her father one day at luncheon, "and he wants Stanhope to go with him." "Will he go?" asked Alan, in a tone of interest. "I hope not; at least not until I have time to bring him to his senses." "Why, Papa!" ejaculates Leslie. "Has our Mr. Stanhope lost his senses, uncle?" queries little Daisy anxiously. "You shall judge, my dear. He has refused, with unyielding firmness, to accept from me anything in token of my gratitude for the magnificent service he has rendered us." "And," added Alan, "he has refused my overtures with equal stubbornness." "But he has accepted the splendid reward promise by Mr. Parks, has he not?" queries Mrs. French. "That, of course; he was bound to do that," said Mr. Ainsworth, discontentedly. "And in some way I must make him accept something from me. Leslie, my dear, can't you manage him?" "I fear not, Papa." And Leslie blushed as she caught Winnie's laughing eye fixed upon her. "I don't think Mr. Stanhope is a man to be managed." "Nonsense, Leslie," cries Winnie. "He's afraid of a woman; he blushes when you speak to him." "Did he blush," queried Leslie maliciously, "when you embraced him that night of the masquerade?" In the midst of their laughter, Winnie was mute. * * * * * One day, some weeks after the _denouement_, Stanhope, sauntering down a quiet street, met Van Vernet. "Stop, Van," he said, as the other was about to pass; "don't go by me in this unfriendly fashion, if only for appearance's sake. How do you get on?"