“Bade Prudence good-bye at the docks,” continued Mr. Catesby, dreamily.  “You drew me behind a pile of luggage, Prudence, and put your head on my shoulder.  I have thought of it ever since.”

Miss Truefitt did not deny it, but she bit her lips, and shot a sharp glance at him.  She began to think that her pity was uncalled-for.

“I’m just going as far as the corner.”

“Tell me all that’s happened since I’ve been away,” said Mr. Catesby.

Mrs. Truefitt turned to her daughter and whispered.  It might have been merely the effect of a guilty conscience, but the visitor thought that he caught the word “policeman.”

“I’m just going as far as the corner,” said Mrs. Truefitt, rising, and crossing hastily to the door.

[Illustration:  “‘I’m just going as far as the corner,’ said Mrs. Truefitt.”]

The young man nodded affectionately and sat in doubtful consideration as the front door closed behind her.  “Where is mother going?” he asked, in a voice which betrayed a little pardonable anxiety.

“Not far, I hope,” said Prudence.

“I really think,” said Mr. Catesby, rising—­“I really think that I had better go after her.  At her age——­”

He walked into the small passage and put his hand on the latch.  Prudence, now quite certain of his sanity, felt sorely reluctant to let such impudence go unpunished.

“Are you going?” she inquired.

“I think I’d better,” said Mr. Catesby, gravely.  “Dear mother—­”

“You’re afraid,” said the girl, calmly.

Mr. Catesby coloured and his buoyancy failed him.  He felt a little bit cheap.

“You are brave enough with two women,” continued the girl, disdainfully; “but you had better go if you’re afraid.”

Mr. Catesby regarded the temptress uneasily.  “Would you like me to stay?” he asked.

“I?” said Miss Truefitt, tossing her head.  “No, I don’t want you.  Besides, you’re frightened.”

Mr. Catesby turned, and with a firm step made his way back to the room; Prudence, with a half-smile, took a chair near the door and regarded her prisoner with unholy triumph.

“I shouldn’t like to be in your shoes,” she said, agreeably; “mother has gone for a policeman.”

“Bless her,” said Mr. Catesby, fervently.  “What had we better say to him when he comes?”

“You’ll be locked up,” said Prudence; “and it will serve you right for your bad behaviour.”

Mr. Catesby sighed.  “It’s the heart,” he said, gravely.  “I’m not to blame, really.  I saw you standing in the window, and I could see at once that you were beautiful, and good, and kind.”

“I never heard of such impudence,” continued Miss Truefitt.

“I surprised myself,” admitted Mr. Catesby.  “In the usual way I am very quiet and well-behaved, not to say shy.”

Miss Truefitt looked at him scornfully.  “I think that you had better stop your nonsense and go,” she remarked.