"You'll thank me some day," he said. "Why should you throw yourself away on Harry? You're worth fifty of him. And I only wish I had time to explain this to you thoroughly, but I haven't!" She, too, had stopped. Now she stamped her foot. "Look here," she said, "I'm not going to promise anything at all. You needn't help me if you don't want to--but I take back that promise. Go!--do what you like! I mean to stick to Harry--and I'll write and tell him so to-night. So there!" He clapped his hands very softly. "Bravo!" he said; "that's the right spirit. Plucky child! Any other girl would have broken the promise without a word to me. Harry's luckier even than I thought. I'll help you, little champion! Come on." He helped her over the wall; carried the ladder to her window, and steadied it while she mounted it. When she had climbed over the window-ledge she turned and leaned out of the window, to see him slowly mounting the ladder. He threw his head back with a quick gesture that meant "I have something more to say--lean out!" She leaned out. His face was on a level with hers. "You've slept soundly all night--don't forget that--it's important," he whispered, "and--you needn't tell Harry--one-sided things are so trivial, but I can't help it. _I_ have the passion for romance too!" With that he caught her neck in the curve of his arm, and kissed her lightly but fervently. "Good-bye!" he said; "thank you so much for a very pleasant evening!" He dropped from the ladder and was gone. She drew her curtain with angry suddenness. Then she lighted candles and looked at herself in the looking-glass. She thought she had never looked so pretty. And she was right. Then she went to bed, and slept like a tired baby. * * * * * Next morning the suburb was electrified by the discovery, made by the nursing aunt, that all the silver and jewels and valuables from the safe at the top of the stairs had vanished. "The villains must have come through your room, child," she said to Harry's sweetheart; "the ladder proves that. Slept sound all night, did you? Well, that was a mercy! They might have murdered you in your bed if you'd happened to be awake. You ought to be humbly thankful when you think of what might have happened." The girl did not think very much of what might have happened. What _had_ happened gave her quite food enough for reflection. Especially when to her side of the night's adventures was added the tale of Harry's. He had not played cricket, he had not hurt his knee, he had merely confided in his father's valet, and had given that unprincipled villain a five-pound note to be at the Cross Roads--in the orthodox style--with a cab for the flight, a post-chaise being, alas! out of date. Instead of doing this, the valet, with a confederate, had gagged and bound young Harry, and set him in a convenient corner against the local waterworks to await events.