“My dear madam,” said the young man, addressing Mrs. Burns, “I beg ten thousand pardons for this intrusion; and as many more that any person I have ever known should have been its cause. My friend Robert here—a boy to be proud of, madam—informed me of the distress Ward had thrown you into, and I came up at once to turn him out. He is gone; I saw him into the street myself. You need have no further uneasiness on his account.” “You are very good, very kind,” answered the old lady, thanking him with her eyes all the time she was speaking. “It would have been a great service, and is; but we are going to move.” “What! has the scoundrel really driven you out?” “No, not altogether that. We have found friends,” said Mrs. Burns, looking significantly at Georgiana. “I am heartily glad of that. Miss Halstead, I have already had the pleasure of an introduction. I could hardly have found it in my heart to forgive any one else for preceding me. But my uncle and I will settle our share with my young friend Robert.” “Robert,” whispered Mrs. Burns, who seemed to be trembling all over, “who is this young gentleman?” “Hush, grandmother! it is only young Mr. Gould.” The old woman dropped into a chair, and, clasping her hands together, forced herself to sit still. “I will go now,” said Georgie, seeing that nothing could be done. “To-morrow I will come again, and we will arrange things. Robert, are you very tired? It is getting a little dark, I think.” Robert got up and took his hat from the table; but young Gould took it gently from his hand and laid it back again. “I am going by Miss Halstead’s residence. Will she permit me to escort her?” Georgie smiled, twisted the elastic around her lace parasol, as if it was of no further use, and prepared to go. That splendid young fellow, with eyes so soft, and yet so bright, was no mean escort for any girl—and Georgiana was quite conscious of the fact. Indeed, of the two, she could not but confess he was taller and finer-looking than Savage. That was why he had been selected to represent the magnificent Templar. So Georgie went home, accompanied by Mr. Gould, with her pretty gloved hand resting on his arm lightly as a bird touches the branch it nests on, yet sending the pleasantest sort of a sensation through that arm, and into the impetuous heart close by. If Georgie was conscious of the mischief she was doing, the pretty rogue gave no sign, unless a little heavier weight upon the arm might have been deemed such; but upon the steps of her father’s mansion she paused, after ascending just far enough to bring her face on a level with his, and such a warm, rosy smile met him that he longed to kiss her then and there, as an excuse for going into that house and demanding her on the instant of her father. Gould had seen that provokingly handsome creature many a time without any such feelings, and asked himself, with supreme contempt, what he had been about never to fall in love with her before.