“‘Am I at home?’”

[Illustration:  “I BENT DOWN CLOSE.”]

“‘Yes,’ said I, gently, for I thought it was best to humor her delirious fancy.

“Then she spoke again: 

“‘Is that you, papa dear?’

“‘Yes, darling,’ said I, in a low voice; and I kissed her in a kind of paternal way, so as to reassure her, and comfort her, and soothe her, and all that sort of thing, you know.”

At this Hawbury burst into a shout of laughter.

“What the mischief are you making that beastly row about?” growled Dacres.

“Excuse me, old boy.  I couldn’t help it.  It was at the idea of your doing the father so gravely.”

“Well, am I not old enough to be her father?  What else could I do?  She had such a pleading, piteous way.  By Jove!  Besides, how did she know any thing about it?  It wasn’t as if she was in her senses.  She really thought I was her father, you know.  And I’m sure I almost felt as if I was, too.”

“All right, old man, don’t get huffy.  Drive on.”

“Well, you know, she kept her eyes closed, and didn’t say another word till she heard the voice of Ethel at a distance.  Then she opened her eyes, and got up on her feet.  Then there was no end of a row—­kissing, crying, congratulating, reproaching, and all that sort of thing.  I withdrew to a respectful distance and waited.  After a time they both came to me, and the child-angel gave me a look that made me long to be a father to her again.  She held out her little hand, and I took it and pressed it, with my heart beating awfully.  I was horribly embarrassed.

“‘I’m awfully grateful to you,’ she said; ’I’m sure I’d do any thing in the world to repay you.  I’m sure I don’t know what would have become of me if it hadn’t been for you.  And I hope you’ll excuse me for putting you to so much trouble.  And, oh!’ she concluded, half to herself, ‘what will Kitty say now?’”

“Kitty!  Who’s Kitty?”

“I don’t know.”

“All right.  Never mind.  Drive on, old chap.”

“Well, I mumbled something or other, and then offered to go and get their carriage.  But they would not hear of it.  The child-angel said she could walk.  This I strongly dissuaded her from doing, and Ethel insisted that the men should carry her.  This was done, and in a short time we got back to the Hermitage, where the old lady was in no end of a worry.  In the midst of the row I slipped away, and waited till the carriage drove off.  Then I followed at a sufficient distance not to be observed, and saw where their house was.”

[Illustration:  THE MEETING.]

CHAPTER V.

THE BEGINNING OF BLUNDERS.

Dacres paused now, and lighting a fresh cigar, smoked away at it in silence, with long and solemn and regular puffs.  Hawbury watched him for some time, with a look of dreamy curiosity and lazy interest.  Then he rose, and dawdled about the room for a few minutes.  Then he lighted a cigar, and finally, resuming his seat, he said: