He had found the child a pleasant companion, fearless in climbing, untirable in walking, full of quaint simplicity and intelligence. He had exerted himself to interest and amuse her, till all traces of the little trouble were gone; and she had poured out her ideas with a rare frankness. But she had been sober throughout—a slim solemn upright child. Down they came now, full swing; Jem's light run well matched by a speed of foot in Jean which few children of eight or nine could emulate. Jem of course hung back for her sake, yet not so much as might be expected. Jean hung on his strong hand, like a bird, rushing beside him with a glow of pleasure, for once perfectly natural and childlike. Jem was delighted. He had not seen her so before. Looking down into the eager face, and at the steady shine of the greenish-brown eyes, he asked himself again, "Will she be so plain?" Jem began to think she would not. "But I wish the poor little mite had a brighter existence." Faster and faster they descended the rough path, as he saw her enjoyment. Soon they passed at a run the open space which had vividly awakened Evelyn's admiration. Reaching an acute bend beyond, they dashed round, glowing and laughing, to find themselves unexpectedly face to face with another couple, slowly ascending the glen. Jem took in the situation at a glance. A light shock darted through his whole nervous system. For Evelyn Devereux was there—Evelyn, by the side of General Villiers. Her hand was through his arm; her face was upturned with a sweet confidingness to his; and the General's head was bent from its superior height towards the fair girl, with a fatherly—no, not a fatherly—interest. Something altogether different from a fatherly interest. Jem saw this. He saw the General's momentary embarrassment, and the soft flush on Evelyn's cheek. Jem dropped Jean's hand, and stood like one struck dumb. Evelyn's first view of him, had been a surprise to her. She had seen him before in a shy and admiring mood; but Jem's real nature was better shown in his vigorous rush down the gorge. The sure free step, the well-proportioned lithe figure, the dancing grey eyes, and the kind care of the little child—all these came before Evelyn as a flash, unexpectedly. General Villiers could not have pelted down the steep glen at such a pace for any consideration. He suffered from slight rheumatism of the knees; not enough to spoil his military walk, but enough to prevent violent exercise; besides, joints stiffen after fifty. In one moment, Jem's career was checked. A sudden gravity crept into the warm face, and the grey eyes, emptied of their sunshine, looked earnestly, questioningly, at Evelyn. "Nonsense!" Jem was saying to himself, putting aside a sick fear. "Nonsense! Absurd! It can't be!" But General Villiers, embarrassed no longer, looked smilingly at the small hand on his arm, then at Jem.