Has anything been heard of Wilfred yet?"

"Nothing."

"Quite a dramatic disappearance, isn't it?" she continued. "Another
scrape, I suppose, and another letter for you in the same old strain;
'Dear Jem, help me out.'"

Jem Benson blew a cloud of fragrant smoke into the air, and holding his
cigar between his teeth brushed away the ash from his coat sleeves.

"I wonder what he would have done without you," said the girl, pressing
his arm affectionately. "Gone under long ago, I suppose. When we are
married, Jem, I shall presume upon the relationship to lecture him. He
is very wild, but he has his good points, poor fellow."

"I never saw them," said Benson, with startling bitterness. "God knows I
never saw them."

"He is nobody's enemy but his own," said the girl, startled by this
outburst.

"You don't know much about him," said the other, sharply. "He was not
above blackmail; not above ruining the life of a friend to do himself a
benefit. A loafer, a cur, and a liar!"

The girl looked up at him soberly but timidly and took his arm without a
word, and they both sat silent while evening deepened into night and the
beams of the moon, filtering through the branches, surrounded them with a
silver network. Her head sank upon his shoulder, till suddenly with a
sharp cry she sprang to her feet.

"What was that?" she cried breathlessly.

"What was what?" demanded Benson, springing up and clutching her fast by
the arm.

She caught her breath and tried to laugh.

"You're hurting me, Jem."

His hold relaxed.

"What is the matter?" he asked gently.

"What was it startled you?"

"I was startled," she said, slowly, putting her hands on his shoulder.
"I suppose the words I used just now are ringing in my ears, but I
fancied that somebody behind us whispered 'Jem, help me out.'"

"Fancy," repeated Benson, and his voice shook; "but these fancies are not
good for you. You--are frightened--at the dark and the gloom of these
trees. Let me take you back to the house."

"No, I'm not frightened," said the girl, reseating herself. "I should
never be really frightened of anything when you were with me, Jem. I'm
surprised at myself for being so silly."

The man made no reply but stood, a strong, dark figure, a yard or two
from the well, as though waiting for her to join him.

"Come and sit down, sir," cried Olive, patting the brickwork with her
small, white hand, "one would think that you did not like your