r some hours, and then decided to talk it over with the
girl herself. He did not care to let Red Mick think that the anonymous
letter had stopped the prosecution; at the same time, he was determined
to do nothing that would cause Miss Grant the least annoyance. He opened
the discussion that evening while strolling about the garden.

"About this business of Red Mick's," he said. "I am rather worried."

"Why?"

"Well, the trouble is this: I've got an anonymous letter from Red Mick
or some of his people, saying that they are going to give you and me a
great showing-up about being hidden in the tree together."

"What can they say?" she asked, uncomprehendingly.

"Well, of course, they will talk about our being in the tree
together--and--all that kind of thing, you know. They will make things
as unpleasant for us as they can. They may want you to give evidence,
and all that sort of thing--and I thought, perhaps you mightn't like
it."

She froze into dignity at once. "I certainly shouldn't like it," she
said. "About being in the tree, that does not matter, of course, but I
hope you will keep my name out of the affair altogether. I must ask you
to do that for me."

Then he rushed on his fate. Many a time he had pictured how he would
wait till they were alone together in the garden on some glorious
moonlit night, and he would take her hand, and tell her how much he
loved her; and now, seeing the girl standing before him flushed with
insulted dignity, he suddenly found himself gasping out, in what seemed
somebody's else's voice, "Couldn't we--look here, Miss Grant, won't you
be engaged to me? Then it won't matter what they say."

He tried to take her hand, but she drew back, white to the lips.

"No, no; let me go; let me go," she said. Then the colour came back to
her face, and she drew herself up, and spoke slowly and cuttingly:

"I thank you very much for what you have just said. But I really think
that I shall be able to put up with anything these people may choose to
say about me. It won't hurt me, and I shouldn't like you to sacrifice
yourself to save me from the talk of such people. Let us go back to the
house, please."

He stared helplessly at her, and could not find his voice for a moment.
At last he blurted out:

"It's not because of that. I don't care about them any more than you do.
Don't think it's that, Miss Grant. Why--"

"Let us go back to the house, please," she said quietly, "and don't say
anythi