ing of the sun began. Neglected by her mother, worse than
neglected by her aunt, Sydney's fearless ignorance put a question
which would have lowered the poor girl cruelly in the estimation of a
stranger. "Are you going to leave me here by myself?" she asked. "Why
don't you come in?"

Linley thought of his visit to the school, and remembered the detestable
mistress. He excused Sydney; he felt for her. She held the door open for
him. Sure of himself, he entered the summer-house.

As a mark of respect on her part, she offered the armchair to him: it
was the one comfortable seat in the neglected place. He insisted that
she should take it; and, searching the summer-house, found a wooden
stool for himself. The small circular room received but little of the
dim outer light--they were near each other--they were silent. Sydney
burst suddenly into a nervous little laugh.

"Why do you laugh?" he asked good-humoredly.

"It seems so strange, Mr. Linley, for us to be out here." In the moment
when she made that reply her merriment vanished; she looked out sadly,
through the open door, at the stillness of the night. "What should
I have done," she wondered, "if I had been shut out of the house by
myself?" Her eyes rested on him timidly; there was some thought in her
which she shrank from expressing. She only said: "I wish I knew how to
be worthy of your kindness."

Her voice warned him that she was struggling with strong emotion. In one
respect, men are all alike; they hate to see a woman in tears. Linley
treated her like a child; he smiled, and patted her on the shoulder.
"Nonsense!" he said gayly. "There is no merit in being kind to my good
little governess."

She took that comforting hand--it was a harmless impulse that she was
unable to resist--she bent over it, and kissed it gratefully. He drew
his hand away from her as if the soft touch of her lips had been fire
that burned it. "Oh," she cried, "have I done wrong?"

"No, my dear--no, no."

There was an embarrassment in his manner, the inevitable result of
his fear of himself if he faltered in the resolute exercise of
self-restraint, which was perfectly incomprehensible to Sydney. He moved
his seat back a little, so as to place himself further away. Something
in that action, at that time, shocked and humiliated her. Completely
misunderstanding him, she thought he was reminding her of the distance
that separated them in social rank. Oh, the shame of it! the shame of
it! Wo