"Yes," said Robert vaguely. He was afraid that the good lady would not be so willing to leave Peggy undisturbed if she knew her real whereabouts, and was determined to say nothing to undeceive her. He felt sure that the girl had hidden herself in the summer-house at the bottom of the garden, and a nice damp mouldy retreat it would be this afternoon, with the rain driving in through the open window, and the creepers dripping on the walls. Just the place in which to sit and break your heart and catch rheumatic fever with the greatest possible ease and comfort. And yet Robert said no word of warning to Mrs. Asplin. He had an inward conviction that if any one were to go to the rescue that person should be himself, and that he, more than anyone else, would be able to comfort Peggy in her affliction. He sauntered up and down the hall until the coast was clear, and then dashed once more into the cloak-room, took an Inverness coat from a nail, a pair of goloshes from the floor, and sped rapidly down the garden-path. In less than two minutes he had reached the summer-house and was peeping cautiously in at the door. Yes; he was right. There sat Peggy, with her arms stretched out before her on the rickety table, her shoulders heaving with long, gasping sobs. Her fingers clenched and unclenched themselves spasmodically, and the smooth little head rolled to and fro in an abandonment of grief. Robert stood looking on in silent misery. He had a boy's natural hatred of tears, and of anything like a scene, and his first impulse was to turn tail, go back to the house, and send someone to take his place, but even as he stood hesitating he shivered in the chilly damp, and remembered the principal reason of his coming. He stepped forward and dropped the cloak over the bent shoulders, whereupon Peggy started up and turned a scared white face upon him. "Who, who--oh! it is you! What do you want?" "Nothing. I saw you come out, and thought you would be cold. I brought you out my coat." "I don't want it; I am quite warm. I came here to be alone." "I know; I'm not going to bother. Mrs. Asplin thinks you are in your room, and I didn't tell her that I'd seen you go out. But it's damp. If you catch cold your mother will be sorry." Peggy looked at him thoughtfully, and there was a glimmer of gratitude in her poor tear-stained eyes. "Yes; I p-p-romised to be careful. You are very kind, but I can't think of anything to-night. I am too miserably wretched."