bout it? It wasn't as if she was in her senses. She really
thought I _was_ her father, you know. And I'm sure I almost felt as if
I was, too."

"All right, old man, don't get huffy. Drive on."

"Well, you know, she kept her eyes closed, and didn't say another word
till she heard the voice of Ethel at a distance. Then she opened her
eyes, and got up on her feet. Then there was no end of a row--kissing,
crying, congratulating, reproaching, and all that sort of thing. I
withdrew to a respectful distance and waited. After a time they both
came to me, and the child-angel gave me a look that made me long to be
a father to her again. She held out her little hand, and I took it and
pressed it, with my heart beating awfully. I was horribly embarrassed.

"'I'm awfully grateful to you,' she said; 'I'm sure I'd do any thing
in the world to repay you. I'm sure I don't know what would have
become of me if it hadn't been for you. And I hope you'll excuse me
for putting you to so much trouble. And, oh!' she concluded, half to
herself, 'what _will_ Kitty say now?'"

"Kitty! Who's Kitty?"

"I don't know."

"All right. Never mind. Drive on, old chap."

"Well, I mumbled something or other, and then offered to go and get
their carriage. But they would not hear of it. The child-angel said
she could walk. This I strongly dissuaded her from doing, and Ethel
insisted that the men should carry her. This was done, and in a short
time we got back to the Hermitage, where the old lady was in no end of
a worry. In the midst of the row I slipped away, and waited till the
carriage drove off. Then I followed at a sufficient distance not to be
observed, and saw where their house was."

[Illustration: THE MEETING.]

CHAPTER V.

THE BEGINNING OF BLUNDERS.

Dacres paused now, and lighting a fresh cigar, smoked away at it in
silence, with long and solemn and regular puffs. Hawbury watched him
for some time, with a look of dreamy curiosity and lazy interest. Then
he rose, and dawdled about the room for a few minutes. Then he lighted
a cigar, and finally, resuming his seat, he said:

"By Jove!"

Dacres puffed on.

"I'm beginning to think," said Hawbury, "that your first statement is
correct. You are shot, my boy--hit hard--and all that; and now I
should like to ask you one question."

"Ask away."

"What are you going to do about it? Do you intend to pursue the
acquaintance?"

"Of course. Why not?"

"What do you intend to do ne