Would he come in quietly and slowly as he had done last night, looking, oh, so strong, so capable of driving ghosts away, fears away? She would never be afraid of anything in his presence, except perhaps of himself! Here he was! He came in, shut the door behind him, and advanced towards her. She couldn't help watching him. "You're quite alone," he said, and he came and stood by the hearth under the portrait and leaned his hand on the mantelshelf. "Yes," said Gwen, blushing violently. "Lady Dashwood and Mrs. Dashwood have gone. Lady Dashwood said I was to stay up!" "Thank you," said the Warden. Gwen looked up at him wistfully. "You wrote me a letter," he began, "and from it I gather that you have been thinking over what I said the other evening." "Yes," said Gwen; "I've been so--bothered. Oh, that's the wrong word--I mean----" "You have thought it over quietly and seriously?" said the Warden. Gwen's eyes flickered. "Yes," she said; and then, as he seemed to expect her to say more, she added: "I don't know whether you meant----" and here she stopped dead. "Between us there must be absolute sincerity," he said. Gwen felt a qualm. Did absolute sincerity mean that she would have to tell about the--the umbrella that she was going to get? "Yes," she said, "I like sincerity; it's right, isn't it?" He made no answer. She looked again at him wistfully. "Suppose you tell me," he said gently, "what you yourself think of your mother's letter in which she speaks to you with affection and pride, and even regrets that she will lose you. Her letter conveys the idea that you _are_ loved and wanted." He put emphasis on the "are." "It was a nice letter," said Gwen, thinking hard as she spoke. "But you see we haven't got any home now," she went on. "Mother stays about with people. It is hard lines, but she is so sporting." "Yes," said the Warden, "and," he said, as if to assist her to complete the picture, "yet she wants you!" As he spoke his eyes narrowed and his breath was arrested for a moment. "Oh no," said Gwen, eagerly. "She doesn't want to prevent--me--me marrying. You see she can't have me much, it's--it's difficult in other people's houses--at least it sometimes is--just now especially." "Thank you," said the Warden, "I understand." He sighed and moved slightly from his former position. "You mean that she wants you very much, but that she can't afford to give you a home." "Yes," said Gwen, with relief. The way was being made very clear to her. She was telling "the truth" and he was helping her so kindly. "You see mother couldn't stand a small house and servant bothers. It's been such hard luck on her, that father left nothing like what she thought he had got. Mother has been so plucky, she really has." "I see," said the Warden. "Then your mother's letter has your approval?" Her approval! Yes, of course; it was simply topping of her mother to have written in the way she did.