his.

"I've been very headlong and idiotic," she said impulsively. "I've put
you in an intolerable position. You must write at once and contradict it
in the next issue."

"Do you mind not talking nonsense for a minute?" he said mildly. "I
shall see my way directly."

She dropped into instant silence, sitting tense and mute, scarcely even
breathing, while the pale blue eyes opposite remained steadily and
unblinkingly fixed upon her face.

After a few moments he spoke.

"When does your mother return?"

"To-morrow morning." She hesitated for a second; then, "Of course she
will be furious," she said. "You won't be able to argue with her. No one
can."

Rivington's eyes looked faintly quizzical.

"I don't propose to try," he said. "She is, as I well know, an adept in
the gentle art of snubbing. And I am no match for her there. She has,
moreover, a rooted objection to poor relations, for which I can hardly
blame her--a prejudice which, however, I am pleased to note that you do
not share."

He smiled at her with the words, and she flashed him a quick, answering
smile, though her lips were quivering.

"I am not a bit like my mother," she said. "I was always dad's
girl--while he lived. It was he who called me Chirpy. No one else ever
did--but you."

"A great piece of presumption on my part," said Rivington.

"No. I like you to. It makes you seem like an old friend, which is what
I need just now, more than anything."

"Quite so," said Rivington. "That qualifies me to advise, I suppose. I
hope you won't be shocked at what I am going to suggest."

She met his eyes with complete confidence. "I shall do it whatever it
is," she said.

"Don't be rash," he rejoined. "It entails a sacrifice. But it is the
only thing that occurs to me for the moment. I think if you are wise you
will leave London to-night."

"Leave London!" she echoed, looking startled.

"Yes. Just drop out for a bit, cut everything, and give this business a
chance to blow over. Leave a note behind for mamma when she arrives, and
tell her why. She'll understand."

"But--but--how can I? Dinghra will only follow me, and I shall be more
at his mercy than ever in the country."

"If he finds you," said Rivington.

"But mother would tell him directly where to look."

"If she knew herself," he returned drily.

"Oh!" She stared at him with eyes of grave doubt. "But," she said, after
a moment, "I have no money. I can't live on nothing."

"I do," said