" she whispered, thrusting a piece of paper into Christian's hand.
"It is to me from Dr. Edmund, but you must read it."

Christian opened the note, which ran as follows:

"MY PHILOSOPHER AND FRIEND,--I received your note, and went to our
friend's studio; he was not in, but half an hour ago I stumbled on him in
the Platz. He is not quite himself; has had a touch of the sun--nothing
serious: I took him to my hotel, where he is in bed. If he will stay
there he will be all right in a day or two. In any case he shall not
elude my clutches for the present.

"My warm respects to Mistress Christian.--Yours in friendship and
philosophy, "EDMUND DAWNEY."

Christian read and re-read this note, then turned to Greta.

"What did you say to Dr. Dawney?"

Greta took back the piece of paper, and replied: "I said:

"'DEAR DR. EDMUND,--We are anxious about Herr Harz. We think he is
perhaps not very well to-day. We (I and Christian) should like to know.
You can tell us. Please shall you? GRETA.'

"That is what I said."

Christian dropped her eyes. "What made you write?"

Greta gazed at her mournfully: "I thought--O Chris! come into the garden.
I am so hot, and it is so dull without you!"

Christian bent her head forward and rubbed her cheek against Greta's,
then without another word ran upstairs and locked herself into her room.
The child stood listening; hearing the key turn in the lock, she sank
down on the bottom step and took Scruff in her arms.

Half an hour later Miss Naylor, carrying a candle, found her there fast
asleep, with her head resting on the terrier's back, and tear stains on
her cheeks....

Mrs. Decie presently came out, also carrying a candle, and went to her
brother's room. She stood before his chair, with folded hands.

"Nicholas, what is to be done?"

Mr. Treffry was pouring whisky into a glass.

"Damn it, Con!" he answered; "how should I know?"

"There's something in Christian that makes interference dangerous. I
know very well that I've no influence with her at all."

"You're right there, Con," Mr. Treffry replied.

Mrs. Decie's pale eyes, fastened on his face, forced him to look up.

"I wish you would leave off drinking whisky and attend to me. Paul is an
element--"

"Paul," Mr. Treffry growled, "is an ass!"

"Paul," pursued Mrs. Decie, "is an element of danger in the situation;
any ill-timed opposition of his might drive her to I don't know what.
Christian is gentle, she is 'sym