"I'll see to that," said Pratt, confidently. "I have a friend busy about Master Captain Vanleigh. But, oh!" he exclaimed, as the recollection of one Barnard, solicitor, brought up a gentleman of the name of Mervyn--"but, oh! I say, tell me this, Fin--Mr Mervyn--you know--there wasn't ever--anything--eh?" "Oh, you goose!" cried Fin, stamping her foot. "Mr Mervyn--dear Mr Mervyn, of all people in the world!--who used to treat us like as if we were his little girls. Oh, Mr Pratt, I did think you had some sense in your head." "Oh no," said Pratt, solemnly; "never--not a morsel." Then they looked at one another, and laughed; but only for Fin to turn preternaturally serious. "I must go back to Tiny now," she said. "But when shall I see you again?" urged Pratt. "Perhaps never," said Fin--"unless you can come about once a week, on a Friday afternoon, here in the square, and tell me some news that will do poor Tiny good." "I may come and say good-bye to her, then?" said Pratt, getting hold for a moment of the little half-withdrawn hand. "Yes, if you like. No--here's Aunt Matty." In fact her herald approached in the shape of Pepine, who no sooner caught sight of the retreating form of Pratt, than he made a dash at him, chasing him ignominiously to the gate, where he stood barking long after his quarry had gone. But Pepine was no gainer in the end, for during the next week Fin never neglected an opportunity of administering to him a furtive thump. Volume 3, Chapter XII. NETTA'S APPEAL. Richard felt very bitter as he followed Mrs Jenkles across the road. Mingled with pity for the poor girl he was about to visit, there was a sense of resentment; for she seemed to have been the cause of pain and sorrow to one he dearly loved. And yet, how innocent and gentle she was--how unlike any one he had met before! Pity may or may not be akin to love, but certainly it was very strong in Richard's breast at the present moment. "If you'll step in the kitchen just a moment, sir, I'll see if you can go up," said Mrs Jenkles, smoothing her apron. She ushered the visitor into the clean, bright place, where Sam was seated by the fireside, looking very hard at his pipe. "How do, sir, how do?" he said. "Take a cheer, sir." "Thanks, no, Sam, I'll stand," said Richard, quietly. "But where's your pipe?" "There it hangs, sir," said Sam, folding his arms and looking at it. "No tobacco?" "Plenty, sir," said Sam; "but I've put the pipe out at home, sir: cos why? It sets that poor gal a-coughing, and that spoils it. It's a wonder, aint it, as doctors can't do more?"