been walking?" asked Sir George.

There was an odd expression on his face when I looked up to him, and I was
surprised at his persistent inquiry concerning so trivial a matter. But
Sir George's expression, agitated as it was, still was calm when compared
with that of Dorothy, who stood a step or two behind her father. Not only
was her face expressive, but her hands, her feet, her whole body were
convulsed in an effort to express something which, for the life of me, I
could not understand. Her wonderful eyes wore an expression, only too
readable, of terror and pleading. She moved her hands rapidly and stamped
her foot. During this pantomime she was forming words with her lips and
nodding her head affirmatively. Her efforts at expression were lost upon
me, and I could only respond with a blank stare of astonishment. The
expression on my face caused Sir George to turn in the direction of my
gaze, and he did so just in time to catch Dorothy in the midst of a mighty
pantomimic effort at mute communication.

"Why in the devil's name are you making those grimaces?" demanded Sir
George.

"I wasn't making grimaces--I--I think I was about to sneeze," replied
Dorothy.

"Do you think I am blind?" stormed Sir George. "Perhaps I am losing my
mind? You are trying to tell Malcolm to say that he was with you at
Bowling Green Gate. Losing my mind, am I? Damme, I'll show you that if I
am losing my mind I have not lost my authority in my own house."

"Now, father, what is all this storming about?" asked the girl, coaxingly,
as she boldly put her hands upon her father's shoulders and turned her
face in all its wondrous beauty and childish innocence of expression up to
his. "Ask Malcolm to tell you whatever you wish to know." She was sure
that her father had told me what she had been so anxious to communicate,
and she felt certain that I would not betray her. She knew that I, whose
only virtues were that I loved my friend and despised a lie, would
willingly bear false witness for her sake. She was right. I had caught the
truth of the situation from Sir George, and I quickly determined to
perjure my soul, if need be, to help Dorothy. I cannot describe the
influence this girl at times exerted over me. When under its spell I
seemed to be a creature of her will, and my power to act voluntarily was
paralyzed by a strange force emanating from her marvellous vitality. I
cannot describe it. I tell you only the incontestable fact, and you may
m