“Then you can do something for me. Come into the house. I want to say something to you. If my uncle had not been taken ill, I should have come to pay you a visit to-day.” “I am sorry I was done out of a visit from you,” he returned. He signaled to his man to wait, and followed her into the little library where only the evening before Vickers had had his interview with Nuñez. She shut the door, and though she smiled a little as she did so, plainly it was only to relieve the effect of her fateful manner. “It wasn’t going to be just a friendly call,” she said. “I have something to tell you, and I hate to say it.” She hesitated and then went on again. “You have been very kind to Bob, Mr. Overton.” Overton’s conscience gave a twinge. Did she know that he had advised his escape? “Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said. “I have had an extraordinary amount of pleasure out of his company.” “He is a pleasant companion,” said the girl, “but I do not know whether you know much about his real self.” Overton laughed. “Why, Miss Nellie,” he said, “I was just thinking that same thing about you.” “Yes,” she agreed, “of course it must be absurd to you for me to be offering advice, considering your knowledge of the world and my ignorance----” “Knowledge of the world,” said Overton, “is not entirely a matter of experience. I should often prefer to trust the opinion of the most innocent women to that of experienced men. Am I to understand that you entirely distrust your cousin?” How was it possible that she could be ignorant of Vickers’s escape? Or had it failed? “No,” answered Nellie. “I don’t distrust him entirely. But you see in small superficial things Bob has such unusually nice qualities that one forgets. Last night when my uncle was taken ill----” Overton looked up quickly. “Oh, your uncle was taken ill last night, was he? At what hour?” “About one, I think. I went and called Bob and asked him to go for the doctor--I was very much alarmed at my uncle’s condition--and in the most surprisingly short time Bob had dressed and gone out and come back again. It was like a conjuror’s trick. And he has been so kind throughout this dreadful night; and yet--” She paused, and gave a little sigh. “Where is Bob at this moment?” said Overton. “Oh, with his father. Uncle Robert will not let him leave him for an instant.” Overton did not answer. He felt unreasonably annoyed with Nellie for her attitude toward Vickers. The younger man’s avowal of love rang in his ears. She ought to be able to tell a man when she saw one, he thought. He stood up. “Well, I suppose I can’t see him, then.” His tone did not please Nellie, nor the ease with which he dismissed her warning. “But I have not finished what I wanted to say,” she returned. “Forgive me. You wished to warn me still further against the contaminating influence of your cousin?”