That statement was to an extent true, but the tears in the eyes of Honora Jackman had been those of sheer rage and mortification. Moreover, Jimmy's outburst may be accounted for by the fact that she had utterly ignored him at the moment of parting, except to request him viciously to "run away and play." For Honora was seriously annoyed. "Oho! sits the wind in that quarter?" said Old Paul, sitting back on his heels, and regarding the boy with a quizzical smile. "Poor old Jimmy! I'll wager a week's pocket money with you, Jimmy, that you love her. Come, now--out with it!" Jimmy stammered and stuttered, and looked about at the trees. "I do--and I don't mind who knows it," he said at last, hotly. "Brave boy! good boy! You're growing up finely, Jimmy, and it's just what I might have expected of you. But even in your love, Jimmy, you mustn't betray your friends," he added gravely. "She's a nice lady, though a trifle old for you, Jimmy; but you're growing every day. I'll even forgive you for calling me names, though that wasn't quite fair. Did you see her safely out of the wood, Jimmy?" But Jimmy, with a sudden suspicious sound in his throat, had turned and bolted up the bank. And in a moment Paul's smile faded, and he took the bank at a leap, and went after the boy. He found him lying prone on the ground, with his face hidden on his arms, sobbing as though his heart would break. He flung himself in a moment beside him, and put his head down close to Jimmy's. "Jimmy--old Jimmy--I didn't mean----" Jimmy raised his face cautiously, looked about him to be sure that no eyes save those of Paul could note his swollen eyelids and his quivering lips. "I know you didn't," he gulped. "But you don't understand me; you don't know how wonderful she is. You haven't thought that she hasn't got a friend in the world--'cept me; she told me that," he added proudly. "Did she now!" Old Paul sat up and looked at the boy. "She's more wonderful than I thought, Jimmy. And I suppose you'd do anything for her--die for her?" "I would!" exclaimed the boy earnestly. "If I thought she was in trouble--or anybody was going to do anything that would hurt her--I'd----" "I know--I know, Jimmy," replied Paul, with a grave nod. "And it's a brave feeling--isn't it, boy? Makes you tingle all over, especially at the tips of the fingers. Makes you carry your head up, and draw your breath quickly--eh?" "Why--how do you know, Old Paul?" asked the boy, staring at him. "Oh--just guessed it," said Paul, with a little laugh. "Come on, Jimmy Quixote, let's join the ladies." "What's 'Quixote'?" asked Jimmy, getting slowly to his feet. "Oh, he was a gentleman who went out to fight for ladies--and he tilted at windmills and things," said Paul. "But he was rather a good sort, Jimmy; and I think I like you the better for this afternoon. You don't mind my calling you 'Jimmy Quixote,' do you?" "Not if he was that sort of man," replied Jimmy.