"Certainly," I replied, meeting her eyes, and noting a quiver of the lips that was eloquent of deep feeling and loyalty. She continued beside me, her head erect as though by a supreme effort of self-control, and with I knew not what emotions shaking her heart. She continued silent as we marched on and I felt that there was the least defiance in her air; then she drew a handkerchief from her sleeve, touched it lightly to her eyes, and smiled. "I had not thought of quite following you home! Here is Glenarm gate--and there lie your battlements and towers." "Rather they belong to my old friend, John Glenarm. In his goodness of heart he gave me the use of the place for the summer; and as generosity with another's property is very easy, I hereby tender you our fleet--canoes, boats, steam launch--and the stable, which contains a variety of traps and a good riding-horse or two. They are all at your service. I hope that you and your aunt will not fail to avail yourselves of each and all. Do you ride? I was specially charged to give the horses exercise." "Thank you very much," she said. "When we are well settled, and feel more secure, we shall be glad to call on you. Father Stoddard certainly served us well in sending us to you, Mr. Donovan." In a moment she spoke again, quite slowly, and with, I thought, a very pretty embarrassment. "Aunt Pat may have spoken of another difficulty--a mere annoyance, really," and she smiled at me gravely. "Oh, yes; of the youngster who has been troubling you. Your father and he have, of course, no connection." "No; decidedly not. But he is a very offensive person, Mr. Donovan. It would be a matter of great distress to me if he should pursue us to this place." "It is inconceivable that a gentleman--if he is a gentleman--should follow you merely for the purpose of annoying you. I have heard that young ladies usually know how to get rid of importunate suitors." "I have heard that they have that reputation," she laughed back. "But Mr. Gillespie--" "That's the name, is it? Your aunt did not mention it." "Yes; he lives quite near us at Stamford. Aunt Pat disliked his father before him, and now that he is dead she visits her displeasure on the son; but she is quite right about it. He is a singularly unattractive and uninteresting person, and I trust that he will not find us." "That is quite unlikely. You will do well to forget all about him--forget all your troubles and enjoy the beauty of these June days."