Georgiana went home with Mrs. Burns. She was not the girl to make half sacrifices, and thought that, perhaps, her help or counsel might be of use. She would not be saddened by Anna’s silence, or disheartened in any way. Horace had asked her to befriend these people, and she would oblige him whether they wished it or not. Very much to the surprise of Mrs. Burns and her visitor, Robert had reached home earlier than usual, and was sitting in the room with young Mr. Gould, who had just returned from Ward’s room, where a fiery scene had passed between him and his old friend. That morning Robert had appealed to the nephew of his employer with frank earnestness, and besought him to get the young man away from that house. He told Gould how cruelly his presence annoyed sister Anna, and added that the grandmother had appealed to him in vain. Gould was terribly angry when he learned how meanly Ward had seized upon his reckless hint to persecute a helpless girl. Every generous impulse of his nature rose up in repudiation of an act so base. Scarcely had Robert told his story, when Gould seized his hat and stood ready, so far as lay in his power, to correct the evil his own rash folly had instigated. His transient fancy for Robert’s sister had vanished long ago, and he felt responsible for an act which might injure her, and certainly debased the man he had once considered as his friend. I have said there was a stormy scene in Ward’s room within ten minutes after Gould entered the house. We do not care to give the particulars, as it was enacted at the very time Mrs. Burns was going over her new house—a much pleasanter subject. But the result was, that an hour after young Ward gave up his key to the landlady, and hurried out of the house with a portmanteau in his hand, looking greatly flurried, and as mean as an exquisite dandy could well look. Gould went up stairs with Robert, resolved to set the old lady and her charge at rest for the future; and, if it could be done, offer them such help as might atone for the trouble he had unwittingly occasioned them. He had been angry, or at least excited with generous indignation; and his very handsome face was lighted up into something more striking than mere color or form. He really was splendid while moving up and down that little room, his face bright with noble feeling, and his step lithe as the movements of a panther. Gould stood in the middle of the room when the young girls came in. I think at that particular moment it would have been hard to find a more noble-looking fellow. Anna started and turned crimson. She recognized him at once as the Bois Guilbert of that Waverly tableau that had terminated so disastrously. Georgie, too, remembered him, and blushed in company with her friend.