Louise gave her brother an excited look, which did not escape Pradelle. "Let's all go," he said. "We might go along the back streets as far as the park. Do you both good." "No, no," said Harry sharply. "I shall not go out." "Go together, then," said Pradelle, half mockingly. "I don't want to intrude; but for goodness' sake, man, try and have a little change; it would make life move different, and you'd be more ready to take a friend's advice." "What advice?" "To settle down here. London's the best place in the world for hiding yourself." "Don't talk to me any more, old fellow," said Harry. "I'm out of temper. I can't help it." "All right, lad. I'll go now; and you get him out, Miss Louie, do. It's the best thing for him." Harry made an impatient gesture, and threw himself in a chair. "You shall do as you like, and I'll raise all the money for you that I can," said Pradelle, rising to go; "but take things more coolly. Good-bye, old boy." "Good-bye," said Harry, shaking hands limply. "Good-bye," said Pradelle, as Harry turned away to rest his aching head upon his hand. "Miss Louie!" He gave his head a jerk towards the door, and Louise rose and followed him. "Come outside," he whispered. "I want to speak to you." "Mr Pradelle can say what he has to say here." "But it's about him." "Well, Mr Pradelle?" "Well, Miss Louie, I only wanted to say that some day you'll find out who is your true friend. I want to help you both. I do, on my honour." "Your honour!" thought Louise. "Have a little more confidence in a man if you can. I do want to help you. Good-bye." He held out his hand, and she felt constrained to give him hers, which he held, and, after glancing hastily at Harry, raised to his lips; but the kiss he imprinted was on the yielding air, for the hand was snatched indignantly away. "You'll know me better by and by," said Pradelle; and giving her a peculiar look, he left the room. Louise stood for a few minutes gazing after him, her brow knit and her eyes thoughtful. Then, going back to where her brother sat with his head resting upon his hand, she laid hers upon his shoulder. "Harry, dear," she said firmly, "that man is fighting against us." "Rubbish," he cried impatiently. "You never liked Pradelle." "Better for you if you had hated him. Harry, he is striving to keep us here." "Nonsense! Don't talk to me now." "I must, Harry. You must act, and decisively." "What do you mean?" "Either you must raise money at once, and go right away from here--" He looked up sharply. "No, I do not mean that," she said sadly. "I will not leave you till you are fit to leave; but you must either act as I advise at once, or I shall do what I think best." "What do you mean?" "Write to our father to come and help us, for you are too weak and broken down to protect me." "Louie!" he cried excitedly; "I am not so weak as you think. I will act; I will take your advice." "And get rid of this Mr Pradelle?"