"Why should I tell you?" he said. "I have studied nature too long not to know something of women. Do you think I could see and converse with--with--her without knowing something of her heart?" "Her heart is untouched. Of that I am sure," cried Artingale. "I don't know that," said Magnus, sadly; "but this I do know--that no word I could utter, no look I could give, would ever make it throb." "Nonsense, man," said Artingale, merrily. "Why, Mag, where's your courage? Up, lad, and try. Don't lie there and let that piece of imitation human being carry her off." Magnus, who was very weak, lay back thinking. "Why," continued Artingale, "you are bound to succeed. What could be better? She was insulted, and you seized the scoundrel who insulted her, and became seriously injured in her service. Nothing could be more fortunate." "Have you found out anything more about that fellow?" said Magnus, at last. "No: nothing; and the police have given it up. I want you to get well and help me." "Nothing more has been seen of him, then?" "Indeed but there has," said Artingale; "he has turned up no less than three times by the carriage when the girls have been out, and poor Julia has been frightened almost into hysterics. Come, you must get well, Mag, for if ever poor girl wanted a stout protector, it is Julia Mallow." "Tell me about her engagement." "What for? To make you worse?" "It will not make me worse, Harry. Tell me. She is engaged to Perry-Morton, is she not?" "Hang him! Well, I suppose there is something of the kind. My respected papa-in-law-to-be seems to have run mad over the fellow, and suffers himself to be regularly led by the nose. But it can't last; it's impossible. No sane man could go on long without finding out what an ass the fellow is, with his vain conceit and pretensions to art and poetry. It is all the Rector's doing, and he is everything; poor Mrs Mallow, as you know, never leaves her couch." "You said the other day that they were going back into the country." "Yes, and I shall be obliged to go too." Magnus smiled. "Well, yes, of course," said Artingale, quickly, "I want to be near Cynthy. There, I'm not ashamed; I am very fond of the little girl. I must be, or I should never stand those brothers of hers." "Anything fresh about them?" said Magnus, who seemed deeply interested in the conversation. "Fresh? Yes--no--only the old game. Being so near down there, my people hear everything at Gatley, and though I don't encourage tattling, I can't help hearing a lot about my beautiful brothers-in-law, and yours too if you like." "Don't be foolish. Go on." "Well, 'pon my soul, Mag, they're a pair of scamps, and once I've got my little Cynthy, hang me if I don't cut them. They haven't the decency to wait till I am their brother, but are always borrowing money. Sort of blackmail for letting me court their sister," he added, bitterly. "'Pon my word, Mag, it would be a charity to get Julia away as well."