"I can't help that," was the indifferent answer. "Erle must take his chance with the rest of us; he knows as well as I do the risk he runs." And in spite of her pre-occupation, Crystal noticed a curious change in Percy's tone. "Do you mean that he would get into serious trouble? is that what you would imply? I do not think you are doing your duty, Mr. Trafford, if you do not warn him of Mr. Huntingdon's displeasure. Mr. Erle is weak, he is easily gulled, but he has good principles; you could soon induce him to break off his visits." "I don't see that I need trouble myself about another fellow's love affair; I have too much on my own mind. Of course you look impatient, Miss Davenport, it is a crime to speak of my own feelings; but how can you expect me to take interest in another fellow when I am so utterly miserable myself." "Mr. Trafford," she said, trying to control her impatience, "I wish you would let me speak to you for once, as though I were your friend," she would have substituted the word sister, but she feared to provoke one of his outbursts of indignant pleading. "You know you may say what you like to me," he returned, moved by the gentleness of her speech, for she had never been so gracious to him before. "You have more influence over me than any one else in the world. If you could make me a better man, Miss Davenport." "I would give much to do it," she answered, in a low voice that thrilled him strangely. "Mr. Trafford, will you be angry with me if I speak to you very frankly, and earnestly--as earnestly," here she paused, "as though we were bidding each other good-bye, to-night, for a long time." "If you will call me Percy," he replied, with sudden vehemence, "you shall say what you like to me." "Very well," she answered, with a faint smile at his boyish insistance, "it shall be Percy then--no, do not interrupt me," as he seemed about to speak. "I am very troubled and unhappy about Mr. Erle's visits; they are doing harm to Fern, and I must tell you, once for all, that you are not doing your duty either to your sister or cousin." "Erle again," he muttered, moodily. "Yes, because the matter lies very close to my heart, for I dearly love your sister. Mr. Trafford--Percy, I mean--you have youth, health, talents--the whole world lies before you; why do you envy your cousin, because he is likely to be a richer man than you?" "He has robbed me of my rightful inheritance," was the moody answer. "It could never be yours," she returned, quickly; "a Trafford will never be Mr. Huntingdon's heir." "I would change my name." "That would avail you little," with a touch of her old scorn, for the speech displeased her. "Mr. Huntingdon would never leave his money to the son of the man whom he hated, and of the daughter whose disobedience embittered his life. Mr. Erle has to answer for no sins but his own." "He had better be careful though," was the quick response.