And suddenly it came to me that I just couldn't and wouldn't let her go on this way, without the sympathy of the man she loved; without the precious consolation of knowing that he knew! She was being badgered and rough-shouldered and put upon and distrusted and maligned by every one she knew, and she had _no_ one in all the world to turn to but me--and-- Oh, I wanted her to know what _I_ thought, don't you know! I slipped to the seat beside her. "Er, Miss Billings--" I began, thinking absentmindedly of what I should say, and forgetting that we were quite alone. "'Miss Billings!' _Why_ do you call me that?" Her lovely brows puckered. "I remember, now, that's twice you--" "_Frances_, then!" I corrected softly. She straightened, her bosom lifting with a quick intake. By Jove, that was what she wanted! "Oh!" Then she leaned slowly back, looking at me thoughtfully through half-closed eyes, her lips parted in the oddest smile. And I screwed my monocle tight and let her have smile for smile, determined to chirp her up and make her feel our oneness--that sort of thing, you know. And I succeeded! For of a sudden her head went back and the joyous peal of her canary laugh started off the jolly birds in the trees above us. "Oh, you--" A stare, and then another burst as she bent forward, face buried in her hands. Then it lifted sharply, flame-dyed--her lips tremulous, her eyes shining like sapphire stars. "Oh!" she gasped, and how I envied the little hand she pressed against her waist; but the windows--dash the windows! "That's--that's _it_--Frances--just that much! But, do you know, I don't--don't believe you really know my full name. I remember now several th--" She bent toward me witchingly, her wide blue eyes challenging my candor. "_Honestly_, now--_do_--you?" So it was _that_ thought that was tickling her! Well, by Jove, I had her there, for I had heard the judge mention her name in full. I would surprise her! "Oh, _don't_ I?" I exclaimed, winking as I polished my glass. "Well, how about Frances Leslie Billings?" I let her have it slowly, distinctly, and with yet a note of triumph I could not altogether hide. And then remorseful for her amazed expression, I explained frankly: "Got it from your father this morning, don't you know, during our long talk about you in the library." "Wh--" Then she swallowed and her face fell perfectly blank. By Jove, I could have kicked myself for a jolly ass for breaking it to her so raw! Of course, she would know that if her father talked of her, it would be nothing for me to hear that was true or kind--nothing she could wish might be said to the man she loved. I hastened to reassure her: "But I don't believe a dashed word of anything he said about you"--I spoke hotly--"and I don't care a jolly hang for what the others said, either--so there you are!"