best of his opportunity, and held Griselda's hand
as it rested on his arm, though she drew back from such familiarity.

"That old gentlewoman," he said, "was reading you a lecture on the sins
of the world and its frivolities. I could see it; I have been watching
you from afar."

"I am sorry, sir, you had no better subject of contemplation," was the
reply.

It was but a step to North Parade; and, just as they reached it, Leslie
Travers turned the corner from South Parade. It gave him a thrill of
disgust to see Griselda on the arm of a man who he knew was no fit
companion for any pure-minded woman, and a pang of jealousy shot through
him, and got the better of his discretion.

"If you had waited, Miss Mainwaring, I should have returned at the time
I appointed, and I could have told you of what I had seen."

"You did find her? You know, then, her story was true?"

"Yes, but the half had not been told; but more of this hereafter."

"I should be obliged to you, sir," Sir Maxwell began, "not to hinder
this young lady any longer. She is under my charge, and I must move on."

"Who hinders you, sir?" was the answer. "Not I. Your goings and comings
are matters of supreme indifference to me."

Sir Maxwell laughed.

"Boys are always outspoken, I know; and, like puppy dogs, have to be
licked into shape."

"You shall be made to apologize for this insult, sir; and were you not
in the lady's presence----"

"Oh, pray, Mr. Travers, do not be angry; no harm is meant. I shall look
for you to-morrow to tell me the whole story of the poor little girl.
Good-afternoon."

Then Griselda stepped on quickly to the door, and Sir Maxwell bowed his
"Good-bye," taking her hand and kissing it.

"Why so cruel to me," he asked, "when I would be your slave? Nay, I _am_
your slave, and do your bidding."

"If so, Sir Maxwell, you will allow me to pass into the house, and I
wish to do so alone."

"I dare not disobey your orders, though I am invited to a dish of tea by
her ladyship; only"--and he hissed the words out between his thin
lips--"beware of puppy dogs--they show their teeth sometimes.
Adieu--adieu!"

Lady Betty was in high good-humour in the drawing-room. A dainty
tea-service had been set out--delicate cups with no handles--and a
silver tea-pot and cream-jug; and Lord Basingstoke had taken up his
favourite lounging attitude by the fire.

"What have you done with Sir Maxwell Danby, child?"

"He left me at the door."

"Wh