atter, however. From all I could gather her mind had been
prejudiced against me, and there was a look of satisfaction on her face
when I left her. She was as transparent as the day, so I had no
difficulty in seeing that in spite of my having risked my life to save
her, she had a bad opinion of me. Well, it did not matter much; in a
few years she would be of age and would return then to her old home.

I had banished all unpleasant thoughts from my mind when the door
opened and Wilfred entered.

"Well, Roger," he said, "getting better?"

"First rate, Wilfred," I replied.

"Lucky, as usual," he said.

"How?"

"Why, in the first instance, you were privileged to save Ruth Morton's
life, and secondly, you are the hero of the neighbourhood for miles
around. The talk of the whole countryside is the bravery and daring of
Roger Trewinion."

This was said bitterly I thought, but I was not sure. Wilfred had
sometimes a way of talking which entirely hid his real feelings and
meaning.

"I don't know," he went on, "if the parson isn't going to preach a
special sermon next Sunday, when his subject will be 'Roger Trewinion's
Bravery and the Mercy of Providence.'"

He spoke mockingly, and I began to think that something had displeased
him. I was not sure of this however, so merely said that I hoped
nothing of the sort would be done.

"Oh, but I hope it will," he said. "Why, the people are saying that
you jumped from the top of the highest prong of the 'Devil's Tooth' on
to the wreck, that you waded through water several feet deep, and that
just when you had carried little Ruth on the deck the vessel broke in
pieces, upon which you plunged into the sea and carried her ashore. I
had no idea I had such a brother."

He laughed jeeringly.

His manner of speaking made me feel that if Wilfred had ever possessed
any love for me it was becoming embittered.

"Have you seen Ruth?" he went on.

"Yes, I saw her to-day."

"Father introduced you to her, I suppose?"

"Yes."

"And no doubt she was exceedingly anxious to glorify the hero who saved
her."

"No, I don't think she was, but I did not stay long with her. I fancy
she doesn't like me."

"No?" he said, questioningly. "I wonder at that, for she seems to like
me a great deal; indeed, we are great friends."

"I am glad to hear it," I replied, "for somehow I can't be friendly
with strange girls."

"No," he said, "I don't think you are cut out for a girl's friend