ng you," he apologised. "I just came in to say
goodbye."

And he held out a hand which she never seemed to see.

"To say goodbye!" she gasped.

"Yes, I've got to go. I'm afraid the doctor's out?"

"Yes, he is. Won't you wait?"

"I'm afraid I can't."

She was shrinking from him, shrinking round towards the door. He stood
aside, to let her bolt if that was her desire. And then she in turn took
her stand, back to the door.

"He'll be very sorry to miss you," she said more firmly, and with a smile.

"And I'm very sorry to miss him," said Pocket, unconscientiously enough
for anybody. "He's been most awfully good to me, and I wish you'd tell
him how grateful I am."

"I'm afraid he won't believe me," the girl said dryly, "if he finds you
gone."

"I must go--really I must. I shall get into an awful row as it is. Do you
mind giving him one other message?"

"As many as you like."

"Well, you might tell him from me that I'll give myself away, but I'll
never give him! He'll know what I mean."

"Is that all?"

She was keeping him very cleverly, putting in her word always at the last
moment, and again refusing to see his hand; but again it was the boy who
helped to waste his own golden opportunity, this time through an
indefensible bit of boyish braggadocio.

"No; you may tell the doctor that if he wanted to detain me he went the
worst way about it by locking me into my room!"

She looked mystified at first, and then astounded.

"How did you get out?"

"How do you suppose?"

"I never heard anything!"

"I took care you shouldn't."

And he described the successful adventure with pardonable unction in the
end. After that he insisted on saying goodbye. And the young girl stood
up to him like a little heroine.

"I'm very sorry, but I can't let you go, Mr. Upton."

"Can't let me?"

"I really am sorry--but you must wait to see my uncle."

He stood aghast before the determined girl. She was obviously older than
himself, yet she was only a slip of a girl, and if he forced his way
past--but he was not the fellow to do it--and that maddened him, because he
felt she knew it.

"Oh, very well!" he cried, sarcastically. "If you won't let me out that
way, I'll go this!"

And he turned towards the tiny conservatory, which led down into the
garden; but she was on him, and there was no hesitation about her; she
held him firmly by the hand.

"If you do I'll blow a police-whistle!" she said. "We have on