ar gently to a standstill, and, jumping out,
was ready to help as a V. A. D. in the moving of the men. The hospital
had been warned by telephone, and all preparations had been made. When
the two unconscious men were safely in bed, the Dansworth doctor turned
warmly to Helena:

"I don't know what we should have done without you, Miss Pitstone! But
you look awfully tired. I hope you'll go home at once, and rest."

"I'm going to take her home--at once," said Buntingford. "We can't do
anything more, can we?"

"Nothing. And here's the matron with a message."

The message was from the mayor of Dansworth. "Situation well in hand. No
more trouble feared. Best thanks."

"All right!" said Buntingford. He turned smiling to Helena. "Now we'll go
home and get some dinner!"

The Dansworth doctor and nurse remained behind. Once more Buntingford got
into the car beside his ward.

"What an ass I am!" he said, in disgust--"not to be able to drive the
car. But I should probably kill you and myself."

Helena laughed at him, a new sweetness in the sound, and they started.

Presently Buntingford said gently:

"I want to thank you,--for one thing especially--for having waited so
patiently--while we got the thing under."

"I wasn't patient at all! I wanted desperately to be in it!"

"All the more credit! It would have been a terrible anxiety if you had
been there. A policeman was killed just beside us. There was a man with a
revolver running amuck. He just missed French by a hair-breadth."

Helena exclaimed in horror.

"You see--one puts the best face on it--but it might have been a terrible
business. But what I shall always remember most--is your part in it"

Their eyes met, hers half shy, half repentant, his full of a kindness she
had never yet seen there.

CHAPTER VIII

"Oh, what a jolly day! We've had a glorious ride," said Helena, throwing
herself down on the grass beside Mrs. Friend. "And how are you? Have you
been resting--or slaving--as you were _expressly_ forbidden to do?"

For Mrs. Friend had been enjoying a particularly bad cold and had not
long emerged from her bedroom, looking such a pitiful little wreck, that
both Lord Buntingford and Helena had been greatly concerned. In the five
weeks that had now elapsed since her arrival at Beechmark she had stolen
her quiet way into the liking of everybody in the house to such an extent
that, during the days she had been in bed with a high temperature, she
had