"McGregor drunk, indeed!" sniffed Maria, indignantly. "If every one as came to this house was as good as McGregor, it would be a fine thing; but when it comes to takin' in all sorts and making a Harbor of Refuge out of a respectable home--I'm not surprised _whatever_ may happen." "Oh, hold your tongue, Maria. Don't be a fool! Get me some more cakes, while I go up and ask Fred what's the matter. It won't take _her_ half an hour to get it out, I'll bet." With this cheerful observation Jimmy vanished, and Maria disappeared down the kitchen stairs, declaring that that boy was "a perfect gintleman." When Flint entered the Anstices' drawing-room a little later, Winifred was standing by the window, and though she turned away quickly, it was evident that she had been watching for him. The thought thrilled him. "What shall we do? Oh, what shall we do?" she broke out, as he came up to her. He took her hands; they were burning hot. "First of all, I will tell you what _not_ to do," Flint answered. "You are not to work yourself into a fever of distress over this unfortunate business. The responsibility is not yours but mine, and the burden of anxiety is to be mine and not yours." "Oh, never mind me! What about Tilly Marsden? It is dreadful to think of her wandering about this great city entirely alone--and she such a simpleton. Of course, it's hopeless to try to find her. Papa says so." "Not so hopeless as you think," said Flint, with a trifle more assurance than he felt in his inmost heart. "New York stands for two things to a girl like her,--the shops and the theatres,--her ideas of the 'amusement' she speaks of in the note you sent me would be limited to one of these. Now, as this is a holiday, none of the shops would be open, and that limits it to the theatres. I shall have detectives at the door of every theatre this afternoon." "How clever you are," murmured Winifred, "how clever and how sympathetic! You have such feeling for everybody in trouble." This was too much for even Flint's sense of humor, which had suffered somewhat, as every one's does, from the process of falling in love. His lips twitched. "Then I am not more obtuse than any one you ever saw, when the sufferings of others are involved?" "Don't, pray, don't bring up the things I said that night!" cried Winifred, blushing rosy red. "This is no time for jesting, dear, I know," Flint answered, coming close to her as she stood against the filmy lace curtain. "No time either for jesting or hoping; only your words did give me a gleam of encouragement to think that perhaps a girl who changed her mind so much in a few weeks might have wavered a little in a few days. Is it possible--Winifred, before I go away, as I must at once--could you find it in your heart to say 'I love you'?" Winifred made him no answer, at least in words; but she came close to him, and laid both hands on his arm with a touching gesture of trustful affection.