“Maurice! Maurice! Ah, that is much nicer to say than Mr. Roylands. Yes, I will call you Maurice. I like Maurice,” she continued reflectively; “yes, I like Maurice.” “I am very glad you like me,” he said artfully. “Oh, I mean the name,” replied Helena, laughing at what she thought was his mistake. “But tell me, Maurice, do you now feel quite well?” “Yes, thank you. The sleep of this afternoon has quite cured my fatigues of last night.” “Oh, it must have been terrible!” said Helena, with a shudder; “papa told me all about it. I was so glad when Andros told us of your safety.” “My safety, or that of Crispin?” “I was glad for both your sakes, and indeed I am very fond of Crispin. You know, we are just like brother and sister.” “Are you? Well, will we be brother and sister?” “Oh yes,” she answered, frankly putting her hand into his; “I will be very glad to have another brother.” Maurice felt a trifle disappointed at this calm acquiescence in his audacious proposal, but, finding her little hand within his own, clasped it warmly; whereupon she suddenly seemed to feel a touch of maiden modesty, and withdrew her hand, blushing shyly. Certainly she was the most ingenuous, delightful woman in the world, and Maurice was quite fascinated by this timid audacity, which was so different from the artificial modesty of many girls he had met. She was Undine without a soul, she did not know the meaning of life in any way whatsoever, yet, like some gentle wild thing, she started back with an instinct of caution when his touch thrilled her virgin soul with a deeper feeling than friendship. Both of them felt tongue-tied and awkward, Helena at the strange, unexpected feeling which made her heart beat and her cheek burn, Maurice with regret for having even unconsciously permitted his touch to convey anything further than the brotherly friendship of a man for a pure young woman. Fortunately for them both, Crispin, alert and cheery, entered the court with Justinian, and they came towards the couple with careless unconsciousness. Justinian, indeed, did cast a rapid glance at the flushed faces of the pair, which betrayed their late emotion, but, far from being angry, an imperceptible smile passed over his lips, as if he were quite satisfied that this should be so. “Helena!” said Crispin, coming forward and kissing her hand; “I am so delighted to see you again! You are more lovely than ever.” “Maurice says English gentlemen do not pay ladies compliments.” “Don’t they?” answered Crispin humorously. “My dear Maurice, that storm last night must have destroyed your memory. So you two have met?” “Quite unexpectedly,” declared Maurice hastily. “I came to look for you, Crispin, and, glancing into this court, I saw Helena, so we have been talking ever since.” “And Maurice has been telling me about England,” said Helena, clapping her hands together with a burst of girlish laughter, delicious as the carol of a thrush.