t I find, and if you
don't feel better I shall make it a dipper, and that would be so
inconvenient, don't you know?"

Margaret looked at him, only half hearing what he said.

"Yes, I am better; I am very well, thank you. What happened? Did I
faint?"

"Yes! you fainted, just as we came up. They wanted to pour water over
you, but I always think it's such a shame, in books, to spoil their
clothes, and you have such pretty clothes. So I wouldn't let them. It
wasn't Peggy, it was a lot of fool cooks and things."

"Did something hurt me?" asked Margaret, vaguely, still feeling that
she was somebody else making friendly inquiries about herself.

"Yes, I--I pinched you, you dear, sweet, pretty--at least, I don't mean
that! at least I do mean it, every word, only highly improper under the
circumstances, but I don't care so long as you are better."

Making a strong effort, Margaret sat up and looked about her. She was
still on the Silverfield lawn, but some one had drawn her away from the
neighborhood of the burning house, now a shapeless mass, though still
burning fiercely, and had pillowed her head on a rolled-up coat. Her
companion was in his shirt-sleeves, so it was evident whose coat it was.

As she gazed at the blazing ruins, memory came back in a flood.

"Grace!" she cried, wildly. "Where is Grace?"

"Safe," said Gerald, quickly. "Safe and sound. Not a hair singed, though
it sounds impossible. Most astonishing person I ever saw in my life.
Came down the rope like a foretopman, hung all over with jewels:
brooches, chains, and owches, you know,--Scripture,--kind of
rope-walking Tiffany. You never saw such a thing in your life. Hadn't
much more than touched the ground, when the roof fell in. Standing luck
of the British Army, I call that!"

"Oh, thank God! thank God! but where is she? where are they all?"

"Mostly gone to take the fainted girl home. She didn't come to just
right; choked with the smoke, Hugh thought. Phil and Peggy are carrying
her, and Miss Wolfe giving moral support. Hugh has gone for the nearest
doctor. The fool cooks have gone in search of their wits, I suppose;
they didn't seem to be anywhere round here."

"And--Jean? she was here too; is she all right?"

Gerald hung his head. "She was left to take care of you," he said. "I
told her I was a medical man, which is strictly untrue, and asked her to
go back to Fernley to get something, cologne, or rum, or mustard,--I
forget what I did say. The