name pronounced, you know, when we met. I was coming back to see you and
make sure. But I was laid up in Paris with an attack of typhoid. Perhaps
Mother told you?"

"Yes. But please, let us not talk of that! There isn't much time. You'll
have to go back to Fath--to Mr. and Mrs. Beckett. Tell me quickly what
you want me to do."

"I was forgetting for a minute. You look very pale, Miss O'Malley.
Hadn't you better sit down?"

"No, thank you. I like standing--where I am."

"Ah!" he gave a sudden exclamation. At last he had seen Brian's sketch.
He had not noticed it, or any of the "den treasures," before. He had
looked only at me.

"Why--it's _the_ picture! And--Gee!"--his eyes travelled round the
room--"all my dear old things! What a mother I've got!" He gazed about
during a full minute of silence, then turned abruptly back to me. "You
love her--don't you?"

"Who could help loving her?"

"And the dear old Governor--you're fond of him?"

"I should be even worse than I am, if I didn't adore them both. They
have been--angels to me and my brother."

"I'm told that you and he have been something of the same sort to them."

"Oh, they would speak kindly of us, of course!--They're so noble,
themselves, they judge----"

"It was another person who told me the particular thing I'm thinking of
now."

"Another person? Doctor Paul, I suppose."

"You must guess again, Miss O'Malley."

"I can't think of any one else who would----"

"What about your friend, Mr. O'Farrell?"

"He's not my friend!" I cried. "Oh, I _knew_ he'd somehow contrive a
chance to talk to you alone, about me!"

"He certainly did. And what he said impressed me a good deal."

"Most likely it's untrue."

"_Too_ likely! I'm very anxious to find out from headquarters if it's
true or not."

"If you ask me, I'll answer honestly. I can't and won't lie to you."

"I'll take you at your word and ask you--in a minute. You may be angry
when I do. But--it will save time. It'll clear up all my difficulties at
one fell swoop."

"Why wait a minute, then?" I ventured, with faint bitterness, because
_his_ "difficulties" seemed so small compared with mine. He was in the
right in everything. This was his home. The dear Becketts were his
people. All the world was his.

"I wait a minute, because something has to be told you before I can ask
you to answer any more questions. When I didn't know who or what
my--er--official fiancee would turn out to be, this was t