“It’s very difficult.  I’m quite afraid of you.”

“It’s I who ought to be afraid of you.”

“Don’t be!  I wish I could make you trust me.  Can I?”

“Why not?”

“I’m throwing things at you so suddenly.  But what else can I do?  We haven’t much time.  My brother’ll come back and join us.  And—­it’s about him I want to speak.  He’s so—­interested in you.”

“That’s very nice of him.”  Winifred’s voice was as cold and bright as a very small icicle.

“It ought to be! But—­well, he’s a dear brother and a splendid fellow in many ways.  I hate to say anything against him.  Yet I’d hate still more to have you—­disappointed.  His one fault is—­he’s rather foolish about women, especially those not exactly in his own set.  Do you see what I mean?  It’s so hard for me!  He said to-day he was going to try to help you.  That frightened me a little.  I felt I must give you this tiny warning, for Peter has such a trustworthy air, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, indeed he has,” answered Win, loyal still to Mr. Balm of Gilead, alias Peter Pan.  But the night had grown colder.

“I’m his sister.  I can’t help feeling responsible for him.  And, in a way, I feel responsible for you, too, as it’s through him I’ve met you—­and you’ll be a stranger in our country.  That’s why I shouldn’t have dared let this chance pass without speaking.  Yet I keep rambling on without the courage to say much.”

“It isn’t necessary to dot all the i’s and cross the t’s,” returned Winifred, trying not to let her voice be sharp or her tone bitter, for she had to believe that this girl was sincere.  A sister would not blacken the character of a brother for the mere pleasure of hearing herself talk!

“You do take this as I mean it, don’t you?”

“I think so.”

“Thank you so much.  It’s very sweet and generous of you not to be angry with me and think me a busybody meddling in other people’s business.  But it is my business to see that my brother doesn’t hurt a girl who trusts him—­a stranger in a strange land.  All I want you to promise is that instead of letting him help you, when he offers to, as he’s sure to do—­if he hasn’t already—­you’ll let me do it.”

“I’m hoping not to need help, except from the friends of my friend who has given me introductions,” Win justified her pride of womanhood.

“I don’t suppose you will need anything else.  You look as if you could get along anywhere.  But if you do need a push, promise you won’t accept favours from my brother, or let him come into your life at all.  It’s entirely for your own sake I ask.”

“I understand that, Miss Rolls.  What other reason could there be?”

“There couldn’t be any other.  Do promise.  I’m so frightened for you.”

“I shall certainly accept no help from Mr. Rolls.”

“That’s good!  It relieves my mind.  And swear you won’t let him dream that I’ve said anything or interfered with his plans.”