great friend of mine--my own cousin,
and a dear. Of course, I know that George looks as if he had swallowed
the fire-irons, but that really means nothing; he is obliged to keep
all you naughty boys in order!"

"You think I'm a naughty boy?"

"Oh well, I didn't mean that, my young Sir Galahad! Now come away with
me and I'll show you the wonderful ferns and the orchid house. I must
have a good, comfortable, private talk."

As soon as the pair found themselves alone in the fernery she turned to
face him, and said, with unusual animation:

"Now I want to tell you about Sophy--I'm miserable when I think of her."

"Miserable--but why?"

"When you've been to call at 'Heidelberg'--I may tell you it's miles
and miles away--you'll see for yourself; it's my opinion that she has
been decoyed out to this country under false pretences."

"Oh, but surely Mrs. Krauss is her own aunt?"

"She is, and more or less an invalid, utterly broken down by years of
Burma. Mrs. Krauss is apathetic, dull, and baneless, and looks as if
you could fold her up and put her in a bag. Herr Krauss is a fat,
loud-talking, trampling German--_not_ a gentleman, but a man with a
keen eye to business. His wife's half-caste maid who waited upon her,
managed the house, and was with her for years, has married and gone to
Australia, and poor Sophy has been imported to replace the treasure;
that is, to nurse her aunt, run the house, and play the old bounder's
accompaniments, for he, like Nero, is musical. He is also a friend of
that odious Bernhard's. Bernhard is a well-born Prussian--I'll say
that for him--the other is of the waiter class, who has made his money
in China and Burma."

"Oh, come, I say, this is rather bad! What's to be done?"

"I only wish I knew. The Krauss abode is large and gloomy--it looks
like a house in a bad temper, and stands in the heart of the German
community; the servants seemed a low-class lot, the rooms were dark and
untidy, and smelt of mould and medicine, but Sophy was just as bright
and cheerful as usual; apparently delighted with everything--loyal, of
course, to her own blood. Now, I know that you and Sophy are friends,
and I want you to keep an eye upon her," concluded this injudicious
matron.

"I'm afraid my eye will not be of much use," protested Shafto, "I am
most frightfully sorry for what you tell me, but Miss Leigh has lots of
pals. There are the Pomeroys, Maitlands and----"

"Yes, that's true," int