mankind he earned a
reputation for generosity by being liberal with those things by which he
set little store. He was neither avaricious nor surly, and, being in
full health and vigour himself, was able to spare a rough chivalry to
women which made allowance for their weaker bodies and greater
difficulty in coping with existence. It was probably this
soft-heartedness which, in the first place, had stirred a vague pity for
the pretty blonde dressmaker, and this quality which the pliable girl
had interpreted into the hope that he'd do her justice. He had, indeed,
often stood up for Anne Hilton herself when her peculiarities had been
discussed, and it was with the warm feeling of being rather a friend of
hers, and not being the man to hear a single woman abused, that he came
into the room and shook hands noisily.

"Well, Miss Hilton! I am very pleased to see you. You've come a long way
in the wet. You must have a glass of something hot. Jane! Jane!" he
shouted, stamping to the door and looking up the staircase. There was a
sudden clatter, and Jane appeared in the doorway laughing, because she
had run downstairs so quickly that she had almost fallen.

"That's smart work," said Burton.

"These stairs is so steep it's the easiest way of coming down 'em," said
Jane with an air of proprietorship, with the familiarity and importance
also of one who knows she is welcome, and, whatever other people may
think, has a power which no one else present has with the only man in
the room.

"Well, you have chosen a wet day to pay us a visit, Miss Hilton," she
said, with a hospitality too effusive to be spontaneous.

She was a very attractive girl, with fair hair and pretty eyes, made for
affection and to take a spoiling prettily. At present she had no
misgiving about her lover's good intentions, and this gave her the
confidence which naturally she lacked. Besides, she had never thought
Anne Hilton important. Anne, seeing the handsome room, the gaiety of
Jane, and affection of Burton, found herself wishing that there were no
reason why it should not continue so, to all appearance a happy home of
newly-married people. She saw none of the signs of shame in Jane which
she herself had suffered.

"I've not just come to pay you a visit, Jane, my dear," she said. "I've
come in the place of your grandmother who's dead, to take you away with
me."

"Whatever for?" exclaimed Burton, loudly. "Do you think I can't make her
comfortable? She's n