her surprise, Denis Quirk
and Sylvia paused directly in front of the summer-house. The very
thought of eavesdropping was repugnant to her, but they were speaking so
quickly and earnestly that she had heard part of their conversation
before she could interrupt it. Remembering Sylvia Jackson's passion,
possibly fearing an outburst of malice, Kathleen kept very quiet,
resolved never to give a sign of what she knew.

"You saved my life," Sylvia said, "and I could refuse you nothing. Ask
anything of me in return."

"Nonsense!" Denis answered, laughingly. "You exaggerate what I have
done."

"You say that because you are brave. Brave men laugh at their own
courage, as you do. But I know, and I worship you!"

The last words were spoken almost in a whisper, and in the tender voice
that Sylvia Jackson was mistress of. But for once the words rang true.
Kathleen held her breath, wondering what any man could do when so spoken
to by such a woman as Sylvia.

Denis answered curtly, almost rudely:

"My dear young lady, please don't weave any absurd romances about me. I
am an ordinary and very commonplace man, not accustomed to soft words
from pretty women. Take my advice and go home to your parents; forget
about me as quickly as you can. I have no intention of ever marrying,
and I don't pretend to be a lady's man. Now, go inside, like a good
girl, and forget to-day."

"Forget!" Kathleen noted a change in Sylvia's voice. "I shall never
forget to-night."

Their voices and steps grew fainter, until they were finally lost to
Kathleen's ears. After a few minutes she also went towards the house.
Denis Quirk stood higher in her estimation than ever he had done before.
He had been severely tempted, and had put the temptation behind him.
Sylvia Jackson was what is termed a man's woman, but Kathleen could
realise the fascination she was mistress of. She had been courted by
many men; to-night she had thrown herself at Denis Quirk's feet, and he
had resisted where other men might have succumbed. With these thoughts
in her mind, Kathleen greeted Denis Quirk kindly when he met her near
the house.

"I am afraid I was rude to you to-day," he said, without preamble. "I
spoke without thinking. I want you to excuse me."

"I do," she answered, simply.

"Naturally, you were hurt," he said. "Believe me when I say that I would
rather offend anyone than you. I place very few women among the
heroines, but you are one of them. For any other I woul