Jessie was now thoroughly frightened. She uttered a little, shrill cry. "What are you doing that for?" hissed the man, clutching her arm. "You will have the police after us. Walk along quietly beside me, you little fool; I have something to say to you." Terrified, Jessie only cried the louder and shriller, wrenching her arm free from the stranger's grasp. At that instant a young man, who had happened along, and who had heard the cry, sprang with alacrity to the young girl's rescue. "What is the matter?" he cried. "Is this fellow annoying you?" Jessie knew the voice at once, and sprang forward. She had recognized the voice of the young architect. "Oh, save me--save me!" she cried. Even before she had time to utter a word the young man had recognized Jessie Bain; and that very instant the man who had dared thus annoy her was measuring his full length on the grass, sent there by the young architect's vigorous arm. "I will have your life for this!" yelled the fellow, as he picked himself up, but taking good care to keep well out of the reach of the young girl's defender. "What in the world are you doing in the park, and so far away from home, Miss Jessie?" Moray, the young architect, asked. Her lips quivered and her eyes filled with sudden tears. "Varrick Place isn't home to me any longer, Mr. Moray," she sobbed. "I have just left it to-day--left it forever. I wish I had never seen the place. It has caused me no end of sorrow." "I do not wish to pry into any of your affairs," he said, gently, as he took her hand and walked slowly down the path with her; "but if you will confide in me and tell me why you left, I might be able to help you." Little by little he drew from the girl the whole terrible story, until she had told him all. Frank Moray's indignation knew no bounds. He could hardly restrain himself from ejaculations of anger. "Of course, if you have friends, it would ill become me to persuade you not to go to them; but if you ask my advice, I would say: remain here for a little while and look about you. Come home with me. I have a dear old mother who will receive you with open arms. My cousin Annabel, too, will be glad to welcome you. Come home and talk to mother and let her advise you what to do. Will you come with me, Miss Jessie?" The girl was only too glad to assent. When Jessie had finished her story, the impulse was strong within the young architect's breast to ask the girl to marry him, then and there. He had never ceased caring for her from the first moment he had seen her pretty face. But he told himself that it would seem too much like taking an unfair advantage to say anything of love or marriage to her now. Mrs. Moray received the stranger with motherly kindness. "I have heard my son speak of you so often that I feel as though I were well acquainted with you," she said, untying the girl's bonnet and removing her mantle.