After a while, feeling rather chilly, she pushed open the window and stepped back into the sitting-room. For a moment the light dazzled her eyes. That moment past, what was her amazement to find a handsome young man, in undress cavalry uniform, standing on the rug with his back to the fire! The surprise was apparently mutual. However, he at once came forward and said: “Miss Saville, I am sure. The servant said my aunt was out, but that you were at home. As the room was empty, I concluded you had gone to bed.” “When did you arrive?” she asked, offering her hand. “We came in about two hours ago, and are going to coal all night--a most detestable but necessary performance.” “Have you been here long?” was her next question, as she seated herself near the table. “About twenty minutes. I have been enjoying this English-looking fire immensely. You must have found it rather chilly in the verandah, I should say.” A thought flitted through his mind--“Was there a Romeo to this lovely Juliet?” He looked down at her with a quick keen glance. No; the idea was absurd. “What were you doing out there this cool evening?” he added. “Nothing,” she replied shyly. She could not bring herself to tell this brilliant stranger that she had been simply star-gazing. “A regular bread-and-butter miss,” he thought, as he pulled his moustache with a leisurely patronising look. Bread-and-butter or not, she was an extremely pretty girl, and his ward. The idea tickled him immensely. He put his hand before his mouth to conceal an involuntary smile. “Vernon or Harcourt would give a good deal to be in my shoes, I fancy,” he said to himself, as he took a seat at the opposite side of the table from his charge.