Just at this time, Charlotte Hardy, the daughter of a doctor who lived next door to the Benyon Dower House, fell in love with Beth, and began to make much of her. Beth had never had a girl companion before, and although she rather looked down on Charlotte, she enjoyed the novelty. They were about the same age, but Charlotte was smaller than Beth, less precocious, and better educated. She knew things accurately that Beth had only an idea of; but Beth could make more use of a hint than Charlotte could of the fullest information. Beth respected her knowledge, however, and suffered pangs of humiliation when she compared it to her own ignorance; and it was by way of having something to show of equal importance that she gradually fell into the habit of confiding her romance to Charlotte, who listened in perfect good faith to the fascinating details which Beth poured forth from day to day. Beth did not at first intend to impose on her credulity; but when she found that Charlotte in her simplicity believed the whole story, she adapted her into it, and made her as much a part of it as Hector the hero, and Dr. Angus Ambrose Cleveland, the confidential agent on whom their safety depended. Charlotte was Beth's confidante now, a post which had hitherto been vacant; so the whole machinery of the romance was complete, and in excellent order. "It's queer I never see the doctor about," Charlotte said one day, when they were out on the cliffs together. Beth happened to look up at that moment and saw her acquaintance of the rocks coming towards them. "Your curiosity will be gratified," she said, "for there he is." "Where?" Charlotte demanded in an excited undertone. "Approaching," Beth answered calmly. "Will he speak?" Charlotte asked in a breathless whisper. "He will doubtless make me a sign," Beth replied. When he was near enough, the gentleman recognised Beth, and smiled as they passed each other. "Oughtn't he to have taken off his hat?" Charlotte asked. "He means no disrespect," Beth answered with dignity. "It is safer so. In fact, if you had not been my confidante, he would not have dared to make any sign at all." "Oh, then he knows that I am your confidante!" Charlotte exclaimed, much gratified. "Of course," said Beth. "I have to keep them informed of all that concerns me. I brought you here to-day on purpose. I shall doubtless have to ask you to take letters, and you could not deliver them if you did not know the doctor by sight. There is the yacht," she added, as a beautiful white-winged vessel swept round the headland into the bay. "O Beth! aren't you excited?" Charlotte cried. "No," Beth answered quietly. "You see I am used to these things."