out her hand; then drew it back, blushing.
This bit of nature gave that experienced
judge, the Hon. George Conway, more
delight than anything of human nature he
had met in the whole course of his travels.
"I knew you would be on the side of what
was generous—the side of honour and
charity. I know of course what would be
said of my taking up this little cause, that
it is from jealousy of Miss Panton. You
may think so; but I trust not." This she
said wistfully. He answered eagerly:

"I believe no such thing. I seem to
have known Miss Jessica Bailey for years,
and have seen enough of her to admire
nearly everything she does."

Jessica's cheek flushed with pleasure.
"What, you say this to me—not as a
compliment, a formula?"

"I scorn such things, or keep them for
such as are worth nothing. I tell you this
frankly, Miss Bailey; I have met none like
you, and never dreamed of meeting any like
you. You have changed a view I held about
women. Indeed, I almost blush to think
why I came here. You would think very
low of me were I to tell you. I thought of
'amusing myself,' as it is called, of enjoying
a 'flirtation,' to use that odious word.
There was something in you that attracted
me at first, but you will never forgive me
after this unless——"

Forgive! There seemed to be nothing
unforgiving in those eyes of delight and
enjoyment. "Only tell me that you think
higher and more worthily of me, now that
you know me better. It would delight me
to hear that from you."

"I could not tell you here what I think,"
said Conway, in a low voice. This was one
of those moments when even the most
trained and watchful "man of the world"
is thrown off his guard. He hardly knew
what he was going to say, when a voice
sounded beside them and made both almost
start.

She spoke pettishly and bitterly. "I
suppose attacking me. You must not
mind her, Mr. Conway. Every one in this
place knows what she thinks of me. She is
the radical of this place. But you sided
with me to-day, and I knew you would."
And she looked triumphantly at Jessica.

The latter smiled, and turned to Conway
with a curious look that seemed to say,
"Now is the time to give a proof of
repentance." He felt he must get on his
sackcloth, even to save his credit.

"I behaved deceitfully," he said. "It
was only a sham fight. I wished to hear
how Miss Bailey would argue her case."

"Oh, you side with her, then. You throw
me over?"

He laughed. "Really this is such a
strange atmosphere of St. Arthur's, I can't
understand it. The visitor finds himself
called on to choose his side. Two charming
young ladies head each a different
party, and not about dresses or politics,
but about an iron bridge."

"Only about principle, the principle that
divides rich and poor, strong and weak,
and which is being fought out all over
the world. William Tell would not bow
to a cap on a pole. Yet the cap, pole,
and bow together stood for subjection or
freedom."

"Jessica is wonderful at history and
Mangnall's Questions. She got the prizes at
school," said the young hostess spitefully.

"I never like to think of my school
days," said Jessica, looking at her steadily.
"But you will mind Mr. Conway more than
me, and he will tell you that this is an
inconsiderate and an imprudent step, possibly
a cruel one."

"Yes," said Conway, gravely, "I was
a little hasty. I would let the poor souls
bring their sandwiches and beer a little
longer. It is very inconvenient to become
unpopular."

"Then I'll never speak to you again,"
the heiress said; "and before a week is over,
papa's workmen will have taken it away.
She—Jessica—Miss Bailey, has been telling
her philosophy to you. But wait until you
hear my story."

Then she turned and walked away
abruptly. Jessica looked after her with
triumph. "That was noble on your part,"
she said, "and indeed I appreciate it!
Other men would not have had the courage.
I admire you. Now we are friends indeed!
There are creatures in this place who abase
themselves before wealth, and meanly put
the foot that walks upon vast landed estates,
upon their heads. There's a fine flourish,"
she added, laughing.

He was more and more attracted by
her curious character. He drew closer
to her. "I disdain praise which is not
deserved. What would you say if I was
as bad as the local character you have so
graphically described? What would you
say if I was one of those who had come
here to lift that foot upon my head? What
would you say to a man who came here
like some careless speculator, too lazy to
be eager, but willing, if something turned
up, to pick it up? Some would call it
'fortune-hunter.'"

"Never," said Jessica, warmly. "As