ntil she should come nearer. She had
dropped her eyes, but as her feet reached the floor she lifted them in
an interrogative glance, and then she saw--the singed and burned hair,
the disfiguring welt upon his cheek, one or two pieces of court plaster
which he had tried to remove and failed. The change which transformed
this quite correct and polite young lady was electric in its rapidity.
Her hands clasped and flew up under her chin, and there came a look upon
her sweet face such as the man had never seen in his life before. There
was gratitude, compassion, and a lingering, unconscious tenderness, and
eloquent, if wordless emotion beamed in her brown eyes. For a moment
each was speechless. Then Julia came forward with outheld hand.

"O, you are he!" she exclaimed, and the blood rushed up to her face,
overflowing its delicate beauty with rich tints. "You saved our Prince!"

The touch of the small, cool hand in his affected Glenning strangely. It
brought recollection--which was bitter--and it made this girl's presence
very real--which was sweet.

She spoke again almost at once, in a somewhat calmer voice, though it
was plain to see her feelings had not abated.

"My father and I are in your lasting debt. Come into the library. He
will want to see you. He was going into town for that purpose later in
the afternoon. Peter told us he delivered father's letter safely."

As she was speaking she led the way into the room on the right. Glenning
followed, and both sat down.

"I--might have waited for him to come," said John, "but--I thought
something might detain him, and an incident has arisen which makes it
necessary that I see him at once. Otherwise I would not have forced
myself upon you so soon after--last night."

"I am glad you have come, Mr.--Doctor--"

"Glenning, Miss Dudley."

"Doctor Glenning, for I want to speak my thanks with father's. I do not
know whether I should apologize or not for appealing to you last night,
for I had never seen you until that moment. But I was wild with grief at
the thought of my Prince burning to death before my eyes, and when the
rest gave back cowardly, and left you alone, it was borne in upon me
that you would do it--that you could do it, and were not afraid. Now,
when I am calm and sane, I see that I was presuming enormously--almost
inhumanly, upon your manhood, for I had no right in the world to speak
to you as I did, and I believe I am ashamed of it today, and think I
should a