When she stopped he stopped, when she hurried on he made haste to thread his way among the various vehicles in the street and catch up to her. Upon arriving in front of a green-grocer's, he took on an air of joyful assurance, and approached the curbstone. "Piggy," said Miss Gastonguay, amiably; then calling for a handful of apples, she spread them in the gutter before him. While he was eating them, she looked across at the bank. "If they haven't closed, I might go and get some money," she grumbled. "That girl Chelda spends it like water," and she hurriedly approached the brick building. "So this is what you have been doing with my money," she said to the paying teller as she stood before his wicket and gazed about the freshly decorated bank. The young man smiled respectfully, then, as he handed her a roll of bills, observed, "The cashier asked me to let him know if you came in. Would it be too much trouble for you to step in his office?" Without saying a word she walked to the glass door beyond, and rapped briskly on it. "Come in," said Justin; then seeing who it was he sprang up. "Miss Gastonguay, I have been wishing to see you." "Indeed,--the road to French Cross is still open." Justin's pale face grew red. "I should have considered it an honour to call, but there are certain reasons why I preferred seeing you here. Will you sit down?" "Thanks, I had rather stand. I am in a hurry,--is your head better?" "Yes, thank you." "A great mistake to jump into the river for that beggar's child. Better to have let it drown." "I scarcely think you would have approved of that,"--then he surveyed her earnestly. "What I have to say may take some time. You had better be seated." She dropped into a chair, and, folding her hands before her on the table, stared out the window. She did not like him. She was annoyed at being compelled to sit and listen to him, yet Justin was full of satisfaction, and there was even an expression of wistfulness about his thin lips as his next sentence fell from them. "In the first place, I have to thank you for your kindness to my wife the other day." "No kindness at all," she said, gruffly. "She can come again sometime, if she likes. I dare say it is dull at your house for her." "Dull, yes,--poor child. Miss Gastonguay, I see you are impatient to be gone, and I will be brief. Long ago you had a brother--" "A brother, yes,--what of it?" and Miss Gastonguay brought her eyes to bear sharply upon him. Justin was leaning forward on the table now. He had become the strict man of business; he had a tale to unfold to her that she should hear even though he compelled her to it. "I had a brother Charles," she snapped at him when he did not speak,--"Chelda's father, now dead." "I refer to another brother," he said, calmly, "a younger brother."