"Oh, yes," she whispered, nestling up to her companion, and letting him draw her nearer, till her shiny little head rested against his breast.

"Yes, Harry, I like it--it sounds so brave and manly of him. Harry, dear, can't you make James Magnus fall in love with Julie?"

"No."

"You can't!"

"No, Cynthy. Shall I tell you a secret?"

"I thought there were to be no secrets between us, Harry," said the maiden, archly.

"Of course not. Well, little one, I think--no, I'm almost sure--that he has fallen in love with her already, without any making."

"Oh, Harry, dear, how delightful. Here, I must go and tell her."

"Not for the world, darling."

"And pray why not, sir?"

"Because, Cynthy," he said, raising her little face so that he could gaze seriously into her bright eyes, "because, dear, I should feel as if I had been betraying the confidence of my best friend."

"But I should tell her, not you, Harry."

"Is there any difference?" he said, quietly. "Isn't it all one now, Cynthy?"

There was a slight pause, during which Cynthia's eyes drooped beneath the searching gaze. Then she raised them, and returned his look with one so frank and full of loving trust that the young man's heart gave one great throb, and the silence seemed likely to be lasting.

"Did James Magnus tell you he loved Julie, Harry?"

"No; but I feel sure he does."

"I'm so glad, Harry," said Cynthia, softly; "so very, very glad. But now tell me all. I saw a sort of scuffle, and then we were out of sight, with poor Julie in a dead faint."

"There isn't much to tell you, Cynthy, only that Magnus seized the scoundrel by the throat as the carriage dashed off; then there was a moment's struggle, and the fellow threw him by some clever wrestling dodge, and he fell with his bare head a most awful crash upon the kerbstone."

"Oh!"

"That made me feel mad, and I went at the fellow, but he was off like a shot, dashed down the road through the gateway; and as I ran after him, followed by a lot of people and two policemen, I saw him cross the road, go right at the park railings, and he was over in a moment, and right into the shrubs."

"And did you follow?" said Cynthia, excitedly.

"Didn't I! But I couldn't get over so quickly as he did, and when I dropped on the other side I was half hanging by one of the tails of my coat, for a spike had gone through it."

"Oh, what fun," laughed Cynthia; "how droll you must have looked."

"I dare say I did," he said, good-humouredly; "but it gave the rascal time to get a good start, and when I was free and ran on with the police and two more men, the scoundrel had gone goodness knows where."

"And you did not catch him, then?"

"No, he had got clean away, Cynthy, and after we had been hunting for above an hour we had to give it up."

"Oh, what a pity."

"Yes, wasn't it."

"I don't know, though," said Cynthia, softly; "if you had caught him he might have hurt you, too, Harry."

"I'll give him leave to," said Artingale, "if I can only manage to make my mark upon him."

"Oh, Harry, don't look like that; you frighten me."

"Do I?--there; but don't you be alarmed about me, little one, I can take care of myself, and I don't mean to rest till I've paid that fellow my debt."

"Paid your debt, Harry?" said Cynthia, with a look of alarm.

"Yes, little one; I owe him something for frightening you, too, down at Lawford!--if it is the same man," he added.

"Oh, yes, Harry; I saw his face last night quite plainly," cried Cynthia, excitedly.

"Then he has frightened little sister twice since. I say, Cynthy, I may call her little sister now?"

"Of course you may; but go on with what you are saying. Oh, Harry, dear," she whispered, "I wish I was as big and brave as you."

"And," he whispered, "I wish that you were always just as you are now, so sweet and bright and loving."

"Well, sir, go on."

"That's about all," he said, "only that I owe my fine fellow for last night's affair as well."

"And about Mr Magnus?"

"Well, I went back, of course, to Sunflower Oil soap."

"Went where?" cried Cynthia, in astonishment. "Oh, I see, you had made your hands dirty getting over the railings."

"No, no," said Artingale, laughing, "I mean I went back to Perry-Morton's."

"Oh, what a shame, to call him such a name," said Cynthia, solemnly, but with her eyes sparkling with delight.

"And there was poor Magnus lying on the sofa in the dining-room, and a couple of doctors bandaging his head, after which he insisted upon being taken back to his chambers, and that's about all."

"But you've been to see him this morning, Harry?"

"I sat up with him all night, and he grew quite delirious, and talked a good deal about Julia."

"Oh!" and a pause. "And is his hurt very bad, Harry?" said Cynthia, looking now rather white. "Will it kill him?"

"Oh, no," said Artingale, "he was a good deal hurt, and lost a lot of blood, and--oh, what an idiot I am!"