So it was a monkey that was under restraint, and not a Judge of Her Majesty's Supreme Court of Judicature: a discovery which left him as much in the dark as to what particular service he had rendered as ever, and made him tremble to think what he might have said. But apparently, by singular good fortune, he had not committed himself beyond recovery; for Miss Tyrrell only said: "I thought you were speaking of the monkey, the little wretch that came up behind papa and snatched away all his notes--the notes he had made for the great case he tried last term, and has to deliver judgment upon when the Courts sit again. Surely he told you how important they were, and how awkward it would have been if the monkey had escaped with them, and torn them into pieces or dropped them into the sea?--as he probably would have done, but for you!" "Oh, ah, yes!" said Peter, feeling slightly crestfallen, for he had hoped he had performed a more dashing deed than catching a loose monkey. "I believe your father--Sir John?" he hazarded ... "Sir William, of course, thank you ... did mention the fact. But it really was such a trifling thing to do." "Papa didn't think so," she said. "He declares he can never be grateful enough to you. And, whatever it was," she added softly, and even shyly, "I, at least, can never think lightly of a service which has--has made us what we are to one another." _What they were to one another!_ And what was _that_? A dreadful uncertainty seized upon Peter. Was it possible that, in some way he did not understand, he was engaged to this very charming girl, who was almost a stranger to him? The mere idea froze his blood; for if that was so, how did it affect his position towards Sophia? At all hazards, he must know the worst at once! "Tell me," he said, with trembling accents,--"I know you have told me already, but tell me once more--precisely what we are to one another at present. It would be so much more satisfactory to my mind," he added, in a deprecatory tone, "to have that clearly understood." "I thought I had made it quite clear already," she said, with the least suspicion of coldness, "that we can be nothing more to one another than friends." The relief was almost too much for him. What a dear, good, sensible girl she was! How perfectly she appreciated the facts! "_Friends!_" he cried. "Is that _all_? Do you really mean we are nothing more than friends?" He caught her hand, in the fervour of his gratitude, and she allowed it to remain in his grasp; which, in the altered state of things, he found rather pleasant than otherwise. "Ah!" she murmured, "don't ask me for more than I have said--more than I can ever say, perhaps! Let us be content with remaining friends--dear friends, if you like--but no more!" "I will," said Peter promptly, "I will be content. Dear friends, by all means; but no more!" "No," she assented; "unless a time should come when----"