"I will tell you all I know," returned Erle, in his kind-hearted way; "but I am only a visitor at Mrs. Trafford's. I think, at least I am sure, that they do a good deal of needle-work in their spare time--embroidery for shops; they are very poor, you see. There is always work about; sometimes they are making their gowns. They are never ashamed of anything they do, they are such thorough gentlewomen. I do not think you could find a prouder woman than Mrs. Trafford anywhere, and yet she is frank, and generous to a fault." "They must be charming people," observed Margaret, thoughtfully. "Crystal has told us all this in her letters, Raby. Mr. Huntingdon's account most fully indorses hers." "Yes," he returned, quietly, "she is in good hands; our prayers have been answered, Maggie. But now dear, if we have heard all that Mr. Huntingdon can tell us about our poor child, will you leave me with him a little, for I want to take him into our confidence; when he knows all, he may be willing to help us." And Margaret rose without a word; but her beautiful eyes rested on Erle a moment, wistfully, as though to bid him to be patient. And then, as the twilight crept over the room; while the girls were laughing and chatting round Fay's couch, and wondering--Dora especially--what could have happened to detain Mr. Huntingdon so late; and while the blazing pine knots threw a ruddy glow over Raby's pale face, Erle sat listening to one of the saddest stories he had ever heard. And when it was finished they had a long talk together, and Erle told Raby about Percy's hopeless passion, and of the impatience and loathing with which Crystal seemed to turn from her handsome young lover. "He makes his way with other girls, but not with her," went on Erle; "and yet he is clever and fascinating, and will be rich, too, some day. It seems strange, does it not. Mr. Ferrers?" "Not to me," returned Raby, quietly; but there was a smile on his face as he spoke. "Crystal will never care for your friend, Mr. Huntingdon; it is no use, his persecuting her with his attentions." "If I could only get Percy to believe it; but he seems absolutely crazy on that point. Miss Davenport--Miss Ferrers, I mean--is not quite the style I admire; but she is superbly handsome, one must own that." "Yes," replied Raby, with a sigh; "I always said her face would do for Vashti's. She has Italian blood in her veins; her mother was a Florentine. Oh, here comes Margaret," as the door opened and she reappeared. "Maggie, what do you think? Mr. Huntingdon has invited me to Belgrave House." "My uncle is very hospitable, Miss Ferrers," observed Erle, with a smile at her surprise; "Percy and I can always ask our friends. He is old, and has his own rooms; so we never interfere with him. Mr. Ferrers would find himself very comfortable with us, and I would take great care of him." "You are very good"--but rather doubtfully. "You will not go to London without me, Raby?"