g about of christian names without regard
for the sacredness of real intimacy, which is so common nowadays, I
shall never submit."

Miss Verney tapped upon the window to summon Guy within again. When he
was back in the drawing-room she fluttered towards him and took his
hand.

"My dear Mr. Hazlewood (for, my father having been a sailor, I must
always be rather blunter than most people), I have to congratulate you.
This dear child! My greatest friend in Wychford, and indeed, really, so
scattered now are all the people I have known, I might almost say, my
greatest friend anywhere! You are a most enviable young man. But the
secret is safe with me. No one shall know."

"I had to tell Miss Verney," Pauline explained.

"I'm delighted for Miss Verney to know," said Guy. "I only wish the time
were come when everybody could know."

Miss Verney was in a state of the greatest excitement, and made so many
references to her nautical paternity that Pauline half expected her to
hitch up her skirt and dance a triumphant hornpipe in the middle of the
cats' slow waltzing.

"This dear child," Miss Verney went on, clasping rapturous hands. "I
have known her since she was twelve. The dearest little thing! I really
wish you had known her; you would have fallen in love with her then, I
do declare." And Miss Verney laughed in a high treble at her joke.
"Lately I have been rather worried because I had an idea I was being
deserted. But now I understand the reason. Oh, the secret is perfectly
safe. In me you have a true sympathizer. Pauline will tell you that with
the people she loves, there is no one so sympathetic as I am." Suddenly
Miss Verney stopped and looked very suspicious. "You're not making an
April fool of me?" she asked.

"Miss Verney!" Pauline gasped. "How could you think I would joke about
love?"

The old maid's forehead cleared.

"Of course you wouldn't, my dear, but really this morning I have been so
pestered by some of the boys ringing the bell and saying my chimney is
on fire that ... ah, but I am ashamed of myself. You must forgive me,
Pauline. And is it not the thing to drink the health of lovers? There is
a bottle of sherry, I feel sure. I brought several bottles that were
left from my father's cellar, when I first came to Wychford, eight years
ago, and they have not all been drunk yet."

She rang the bell, and when the maid came in said:

"Mabel, if you take my keys and open the store-cupboard, you will find
s