"I hope you will never be afraid when I am with you," I said, pressing her arm gently to my side. She did not withdraw from me, only hung her head lower, so I went on bravely. "These last forty-four hours have been the longest and most intolerable of my life!" She elevated her eyebrows, and I thought I perceived a faint smile hovering around her lips. "Indeed!" "I hope you got some flowers I sent you yesterday?" "Yes. Didn't you receive my note thanking you for them? They were very beautiful!" I loudly anathematised the post which had delayed so important a message. This time there was no doubt about it--and a roguish smile was parting her lips. This emboldened me to ask: "Were these roses as good as the first lot? I got them at a different place." "Oh, did you send those also? There was no card with them." "I purposely omitted to enclose one, as I feared you might consider that I was presuming on our slight acquaintance. Besides, I doubted whether you would remember me or had even caught my name." "I had not." There was a pause. "Oh, what must you have thought of me! What must you think of me!" she exclaimed, in tones of deep distress, trying to draw her arm away. But I held her fast. "Believe me, I entertain for you the greatest respect and admiration. I should never dream of criticising anything you do or might have done." She shot a grateful glance at me, and seeing we were unobserved I ventured to raise her small gloved hand reverently to my lips. She blushed again, but did not repulse me. On arriving at the house, I insisted on her lying down, and, hoping the quiet would do her good, we left her alone. On leaving the room, we passed Norman pacing up and down outside, like a faithful dog. He did not offer to join us, but remained at his post. I had not questioned May as to the cause of her fright, fearing to excite her, but I was none the less anxious to know what had occurred. Luckily, Mrs. Derwent was as eager to enlighten me as I was to learn.