, and looked around at the others.

"It is settled," I declared. "We appoint ourselves your guardians. You
agree, Mabane?"

"Most heartily," he answered.

"And you, Arthur?"

"Great heavens, yes!" he answered vehemently.

"You are very good," she murmured, "very good to me. All my life I shall
remember this."

She held out both her hands. Her eyes were fixed still upon mine. Mabane
laid his hand upon her shoulder.

"Dear child," he said, "do not forget that there are three of us. I too
am very happy to be one of your guardians."

She gave him the hand which Arthur had seized upon. I think that we had
none of us before seen a smile so dazzling as hers.

"Dear friends," she murmured, "I only hope that you will never regret
this great, great kindness."

Then suddenly she flitted away and went to her room. We three men were
left alone.

I think that for the first few moments there was some slight
awkwardness, for we were men, and we spoke seldom of the things which
touched us most. Arthur, however, broke almost immediately into speech,
and relieved the tension.

"And to think that it was I," he exclaimed, "who sent you out plot
hunting to the station! Arnold, what a sensible chap you are!"

We all laughed.

"A good many people," Mabane remarked quietly, "would call us three
fools. Tell us, Arnold, did you really discover nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing," I declared. "Stop, though. I did find out this.
There is some secret about the child's parentage. I have spoken with two
people who know it, and one of them warned me that in keeping the child
we were interfering in a greater matter than we had any idea of. Of
course it might have been a bluff, but I fancy that Lady Delahaye was in
earnest."

"You do not think," Mabane asked, "that she was Major Delahaye's
daughter?"

"I do not," I answered, with a little shudder. "I am sure that she was
not."

"Whoever she is," Arthur declared, "there's one thing jolly certain, and
that is she's thoroughbred. She has the most marvellous nerve I ever
knew. We got in a tight corner this morning. I took her down to
Guildford in a trailer, and I had to jump the pavement to avoid a
runaway. She never flinched for a moment. Half the girls I know would
have squealed like mad. She only laughed, and asked whether she should
get out. She's as thoroughbred as they make them."

"Perhaps," I answered, "but I'm not going to have you risk her life with
your beastly motoring, Art