“No, of course not, because you were sitting here; but I could have declared that I saw the figure of a man cross in front of the window----” Faradeane dropped the match, and strode to the door, then stopped short. “My man, my gardener, groom, valet, factotum,” he said. “He was looking round for the night, I dare say.” And he sank down into a chair opposite Bertie’s. “And now what was this truth you were going to tell me, Cherub?” Bertie colored, and shifted in his seat nervously. “Well, it wasn’t altogether an unselfish deed, this dropping in upon you at this time of night. By the way, it is awfully late!” Faradeane waved his pipe. “It is never too date to receive a friend, Cherub. Day and night are all one to a man who takes no interest in either. You have come to talk to me--to ask me something. Isn’t it so?” Bertie nodded. “You always seem to know,” he said, with quiet admiration. “I did come to talk to you, to ask you to do me a great favor.” “Consider it granted, even to the half of my kingdom,” responded Faradeane. “What is it?” Bertie was silent for a moment; then, blushing like the rose, and with downcast eyes, he said: “What--what do you think of her now--of Olivia, Faradeane?” Faradeane was sitting with his arms folded at the back of his head, his eyes fixed in dreamy patience and kindliness upon the fair, girlish face; but at this abrupt question his expression changed and his arms dropped. “What do I think of Miss Vanley?” he said, in a slow, constrained voice. “Yes, old fellow. You can’t tell how anxious I am to get your opinion. You see, you are the dearest friend I’ve got, you always were my friend and all that, and I--I naturally----” Faradeane nodded, and seemingly intent upon his pipe, which had suddenly got stopped up apparently, said: “I think she is a very beautiful girl. Cherub, and something a very great deal better than beautiful.” “I knew you’d say so, but I wanted to hear you say it!” exclaimed Bertie, with suppressed fervor. “I knew you admired her----” Faradeane raised his head sharply. “You know that I admired her! How should you know that? Have I shown it in any word or look?” “No, no; don’t be angry, my dear fellow,” responded Bertie, quickly. “No, no; but I felt somehow that you did.” “Oh!” “And I’m certain she admires you. I’m sure, if you’d seen her face as she sat to-night while you were reciting, and at dinner time, too, with her eyes fixed upon you----” Faradeane’s pipe seemed to trouble him again. “Oh, I could see that she was immensely taken with you; and who wouldn’t be? Don’t smile like that, old man; I mean all I say; and it was because I am so sure that--that--she likes you and looks up to you, that I came in here to you to-night. The idea only struck me as I was passing the top of the lane.” “Oh,” said Faradeane, quietly; “and what was the idea, Cherub?” Bertie fidgeted in his chair, and sighed. “Look here, Cly----”