“And you--you are the man I have dreamt of, but never seen till now!” “How is that? Am I so different from the rest of my sex?” “Very--very different! So strong and brave and beautiful!” “Dear little girl! And so you really like me?” “I love you,” said Harriet feverishly, “I loved you the first minute we met.” “And I love you! You’re awfully sweet and pretty, you know!” “Do you really think so? What would Mrs. Pullen say if she heard you?” “Mrs. Pullen is not the keeper of my conscience. But she must not hear it.” “O! no! nor Miss Leyton either!” “Most certainly not Miss Leyton. She is a terrible prude! She would be awfully shocked!” “It must be a secret,--just between you and me!” murmured the girl. “Just so! A sweet little secret, all our own, and nobody else’s!” And then the fair head and the dark one came again in juxtaposition, and the rest was lost in--Silence! CHAPTER VII. Doctor Phillips had not been in the Hôtel Lion d’Or five minutes before Margaret Pullen took him upstairs to see her baby. She was becoming terribly anxious about her. They encountered Captain Ralph Pullen on the staircase. “Hullo! young man, and what have _you_ been doing to yourself?” exclaimed the doctor. He was certainly looking ill. His face was chalky white, and his eyes seemed to have lost their brightness and colour. “Been up racketing late at night?” continued Doctor Phillips. “What is Miss Leyton about, not to look after you better?” “No, indeed, Doctor,” replied the young man with a smile, “I am sure my sister-in-law will testify to the good hours I have kept since here. But I have a headache this morning--a rather bad one,” he added, with his hand to the nape of his neck. “Perhaps this place doesn’t agree with you--it was always rather famous for its smells, if I remember aright! However, I am going to see Miss Ethel Pullen now, and when I have finished with her, I will look after you!” “No, thank you, Doctor,” said Ralph laughing, as he descended the stairs. “None of your nostrums for me! Keep them for the baby!” “He is not looking well,” observed Doctor Phillips to Margaret, as they walked on together. “I don’t think he is, now you point it out to me, but I have not noticed it before,” replied Margaret. “I am sure he has been living quietly enough whilst here!” The infant was lying as she had now done for several days past--quite tranquil and free from pain, but inert and half asleep. The doctor raised her eyelids and examined her eyeballs--felt her pulse and listened to her heart--but he did not seem to be satisfied. “What has this child been having?” he asked abruptly. “Having, Doctor? Why! nothing, of course, but her milk, and I have always that from the same cow!” “No opium--no soothing syrup, nor quackeries of any kind?” “Certainly not! You know how often you have warned me against anything of the sort!”