luables
to escape them?" he questioned. "Forgive me--is that wise?"

She did not answer.

He began to make his difficult progress towards the house.

Suddenly, without looking at her he spoke again. "I believe you're a
woman of sense, Miss Waring, and you know as well as I do that there is a
price to pay for everything. And the biggest things command the highest
prices. If we haven't the means to pay for a big thing when it is
offered us, we must just let it go. But if we have--well, I guess we'd be
wise to sell out all the little things and secure it. Those same little
things are so almighty small in comparison."

He ceased, but still Dot was silent. It was not the silence of
embarrassment, however. He had spoken too kindly for that.

He did not look at her till they were close to the house, then for a few
moments she was aware of his steady eyes searching for the answer she
had withheld.

"Say, Miss Waring," he said, "you are not vexed any?"

She turned towards him instantly, her round face full of the most earnest
friendliness. "I--I think you're a brick, Mr. Errol," she said.

He shook his head. "Nothing so useful, I am afraid, but I'm grateful to
you all the same for thinking so. Ah! Here comes your father."

The rector was hastening after them across the grass. He joined them on
the path before the house and urged his visitor to come in and rest. The
orchids were in the conservatory. He believed he had one very rare
specimen. If Mr. Errol would sit down in the drawing-room he would bring
it for his inspection.

And so it came to pass that when Bertie entered he found his brother deep
in a botanical discussion with the enthusiastic rector while Dot had
disappeared. Bertie only paused to ascertain this fact before he turned
round and went in quest of her.

He knew his way about the lower regions of the Rectory, and he began a
systematic search forthwith. She was not, however, to be very readily
found. He glanced into all the downstairs rooms without success. He was,
in fact, on the point of regretfully abandoning his efforts on the
supposition that she had retreated to her own room when her voice rang
suddenly down the back stairs. She was calling agitatedly for help.

It was enough for Bertie. He tore up the stairs with lightning speed,
boldly announcing his advent as he went.

He found her at the top of the house in an old cupboard used for storing
fruit. She was mounted upon a crazy pair of steps t