“I do not know yet,” he said thoughtfully; “I am on my way now to see what arrangements I can make with the American Consul for your safety.” “For our safety!” she repeated. “Surely you are coming with us,” and Miss Rochester’s white fingers closed almost convulsively over his arm, while her anxious eyes searched his face. “Yes, I shall not leave you until you are all comfortable somewhere, but——” “You will not then return?” she cried in a startled tone. “Yes,” he reluctantly admitted, “I did not mean to tell any one of my intention, but since you have suspected it, I may as well own that I am coming back to offer my services as surgeon and physician in the hospitals.” “Oh, pray do not! think of the danger!” Miss Rochester pleaded in tones of distress. “I have no fear,” he said gravely, while he added to himself that it could not matter much to him what danger or fate awaited him, for life had few charms for him without Salome to share it. “No, perhaps not for yourself,” his companion returned, in tremulous tones, “but for the sake of others you should guard your life. If—if anything should happen to you! Oh, Dr. Winthrop, I could not bear it.” She had spoken very rapidly, and almost passionately—apparently driven on by feelings which she could not control, while the look in her eyes revealed to him just what she had long been trying to make him understand, that he had become all in all to her. Then all at once, she appeared to become conscious of how much she was betraying. A look of consternation and dismay swept over her face—the rich blood rushed in a crimson tide over cheek, neck, and brow, and the next moment, as if overcome with shame for such an unguarded confession, she dropped her head in graceful humility upon the hand which still clasped his arm, and murmured brokenly. “Forgive me—forgive me!—I forgot—I did not mean——” At that instant a door, close by which the young couple were standing in such a suggestive attitude, opened, and Mrs. Rochester appeared upon the scene. Her face lighted with glad surprise, as, at a glance, she seemed to take in the situation. It was too late to beat a retreat, for Dr. Winthrop had already seen her, so she thought she might as well take time by the forelock and give the young man to understand that she believed him a happy accepted lover. “I hope you will pardon me,” she said, with a frank, delighted smile, “I would not have intruded had I suspected the nature of this interview; but you will at least allow me to express my pleasure, and offer congratulations.” “Oh, mamma!” burst from Miss Rochester, and then, as if overcome with confusion, she darted through the open door, telling herself with a feeling of triumph, that Dr. Winthrop, having been caught in such a compromising position, could not do otherwise than yield gracefully to his fate and ratify the engagement which both families so much desired.