oked up with a suddenly frightened face, her great eyes
dilating, her pale lips parting.

"I saw you by accident coming up the avenue with him last evening," Kate
hastened to explain. "I chanced to hear a remark of his in passing; I
could not help it."

Agnes clasped her hands together in frightened supplication.

"You won't say anything about it?" she said, piteously. "Oh, please
don't say anything about it! I am so sorry you overheard. Oh, Miss
Danton, you won't tell?"

"Certainly not," answered Kate, startled by her emotion. "I merely
thought he might be the friend you came in search of."

"Oh, no, no! Doctor Danton has been my friend; I owe him more than I can
ever repay. He is the best, and noblest, and most generous of men. He
was my friend when I had no friend in the world--when, but for him, I
might have died. But he is not the one I came to seek."

"I beg your pardon," said Kate, going back to her chair. "I have asked
too many questions."

"No, no! You have a right to ask me, but I cannot tell. I am not very
old, but my heart is nearly broken."

She dropped her work, covered her face with her slender hands, and broke
out into a fit of passionate crying. Kate was beside her in a moment,
soothing her, caressing her, as if she had been her sister.

"I am sorry, I am sorry," she said; "it is all my fault. Don't cry,
Agnes; I will go now; you will feel better alone."

She stooped and kissed her. Agnes looked up in grateful surprise, but
Miss Danton was gone. She ran down stairs and stood looking out of the
drawing-room window, at the sunlit, wintry landscape.

So Doctor Frank was a hero after all, and not a villain. He had nothing
to do with this pale little girl's trouble. He was only her best friend
and wanted to hide it.

"People generally like their good deeds to be known," mused Miss Danton.
"They want their right hand to see all that their left hand gives. Is
Doctor Frank a little better than the rest of mankind? I know he attends
the sick poor of St. Croix for nothing, and I know he is very pleasant,
and a gentleman. Is he that modern wonder, a good man, besides?"

Her meditations were interrupted by the entrance of Rose, looking very
charming in a tight jacket and long black riding-skirt, a "jockey hat
and feather" on her curly head, and flourishing her riding-whip in her
gauntleted hand.

"I thought you were out, Kate, with your little Scotchman," she said,
slapping her gaiter. "I saw him m