sed. "It is only that--I do wish you would not talk in that
way--use those words, I mean. Julian is sure to catch them up, and you
see yourself that that would be a pity."

"I am to govern my tongue then for Julian's sake?"

"Yes, and for your own."

"Do you _care_ whether I govern it or not, Janetta?"

How oddly soft and tender his voice had grown!

"Yes, I do care," she answered, not very willingly, but compelled to
truthfulness by her own conscience and his constraining gaze.

"Then I swear I will," he exclaimed, impetuously. "It is something to
find a woman caring whether one is good or bad, and I won't prove myself
utterly unworthy of your care."

"There is your mother: _she_ cares."

"Oh, yes, she cares, poor soul, but she cries over my sins instead of
fighting them. Fighting is not her _metier_, you know. Now, you--you
fight well."

"That is a compliment, I suppose?" said Janetta, laughing a little and
coloring--not with displeasure--at his tone.

"Yes," he said; "I like the fighting spirit."

They had been walking slowly along the path, and now they had reached
the gate that opened into the grounds. Here, as he opened it, Janetta
hesitated, and then stopped short.

"I think I had better make the best of my way back," she said. "It is
getting late."

"Not much after twelve. Are we not friends again?"

"Oh yes."

"And will you think over what I said about my boy?"

"Do you really mean it?"

"Most decidedly. You couldn't come here, I suppose--you wouldn't leave
home?"

"No, I could not do that. How would he get to me every day?"

"I would bring him myself, or send him in the dog-cart. I or my brother
would look after that." Then, seeing a sudden look of protest in
Janetta's face, he added quickly--"You don't like that?"

"It is nothing," said Janetta, looking down.

"Is it to me or to my brother that you object?"

He smiled as he spoke, but, a little to his surprise, Janetta kept
silence, and did not smile. Wyvis Brand was a man of very quick
perceptions, and he saw at once that if she seemed troubled she had a
reason for it.

"Has Cuthbert offended you?" he asked.

"I have only spoken to him once--four months ago."

"That is no answer. What has he been about? I have some idea, you know,"
said Wyvis, coolly, "because I came across some sketches of his which
betrayed where his thoughts were straying. Your pretty sister quite
captivated him, I believe. Has he been getting up a flirtat