HOLT checked the horses and, dismounting, stood beside Jean in the shadow of a great tree by the roadside. Within ten feet of them the light from a wide window streamed out upon the grass in front of a pleasant house built in bungalow style, with broad porches and vine-clad approaches. Hammocks and easy rockers were dimly visible, with a brighter hint of glow and warmth inside the swaying curtains of the window where a piano was sounding pleasantly, and a man and woman were sitting on either side of a table under a prettily shaded reading lamp. A boy's voice called down the stairs and the little girl at the piano stopped playing and answered him; then tinkled on with her music.

All this the two under the tree saw and heard without sensing it. They were looking into one another's eyes in the semi-darkness, realizing that across that streak of light was separation for them, perhaps forever; and that probably this instant here and now was all that was left to them together out of the eternity of the future years.

Jean put her hands timidly on Holt's shoulders. "I've been thinking what it was you wanted to ask of me," she said so softly that if one had been passing would have seemed but the breathing of the evening air. She waited and Holt looked at her wistfully.

"I have no right," he said. "It wouldn't be square."

The girl's eyes looked steadily, shyly into his, though in the shadow they could see more with the spirit than with the material vision.

"Was it --" she stopped, her heart beating fast. "Was it -- this?"

She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the forehead just where the soft curls waved away; and her lips were like a benediction, that seemed to bring forgiveness and a purging away of the past.

With bowed head as at a sacrament he stood, then softly said:

"You have understood, and I thank you. I had no right to ask, but I can never forget or be false to that."

He stooped and laid his lips reverently on her hands; then lifted her down quickly as if he could not bear to make the sorrow of the parting longer; and together they went forward across the patch of light, up the path and the wide low steps to the porch. Holt knocked once on the door, not loudly, but there was in the sound a menace that made Jean shudder as she heard it. She reached out her hand to his as if she would take shelter there from something that was coming, that she could not quite understand. Holt pressed her fingers quickly, tightly in a clasp that almost hurt her, and then dropping her hand, stepped back into the shadow of the vines as the tinkling piano stopped. There was a sound of footsteps coming to the door, and of voices in expectation.

The door was flung wide and in the stream of light Mr. and Mrs. Harrington stood looking eagerly out into the darkness, with a little girl of twelve in a white dress, peering shyly but curiously around her mother and a boy of five struggling to get into the centre of the family group. Jean stood alone in the light on the porch, with Holt in the shadow at her side.

"I have brought Miss Grayson," said Holt in a grave, almost challenging tone, from his dark position just outside the stream of light.

But the people in the doorway whose eyes had come from the lighted room saw only the figure of the girl standing in the brightness.

"Oh, Jean! My little sister! You have come at last! " cried Mrs. Harrington, rushing forward to clasp her in her arms, and draw her inside the door; and in the confusion of the greetings the girl's escort was quite forgotten for the moment.

Within the doorway at last they looked about for him and found no one.

"Why, who came with you, child? Where has he gone?" asked her brother-in-law solicitously. "We must ask him in and hear all about your adventures. He stepped out on the porch and looked down the path in the moonlight, but saw no one anywhere.

"Yes, please ask him in." pleaded Jean, her face illumined with eagerness, "he has been so wonderful! He saved my life. If it hadn't been for him I shouldn't have been here." And she hurried to the door and peered out into the darkness.

"Of course," said her sister, going to the door to look. "How thoughtless of us not to have welcomed him at once, but we were so overwhelmed to have you at last, after all the anxiety -- you can't think how terrible it has been. Which way could he have gone? James, look down the road either way. He can't be far away. What was his name, Jean? Can't you call after him?"

"He must be over there." Jean pointed toward the great tree where the horses had stood but a short moment before. " We dismounted just under that tree. He can't have gone far with two horses -- so soon --" and she hurried across the grass to the tree, but there was no sign of horse or man in the deep shadow or the serene moonlight anywhere.

"Call, James! " commanded Mrs. Harrington, and her husband obeyed, but no answering call came back, save the echoes of his voice.

"What did you say his name was, Jean? " asked the puzzled householder walking slowly back to the steps. "It seems very strange he could get away so soon. Where was he going? Did he live near here? We ought to put him up for the night, of course. It's most mortifying to have him disappear in this manner when he has been so good to you. He must have gone to find rest and food for his horses and himself. I'll send the servant out to look him up. He'll surely find him. What did he look like? What did you say was his name ? "

Jean, slowly climbing the steps to the porch, and comprehending that Holt's disappearance had been intentional, answered in a strange low voice that tried to be natural:

"Holt, his name was Holt, Jasper Holt --" her voice lingered on the words as if she would glorify the man by merely speaking his name, and elevate him in their eyes to the place he occupied in her heart.

"Holt!" exclaimed her brother-in-law. "Holt! Not Jasper Holt! Impossible! There must be some mistake."

"It couldn't have been Jasper Holt, of course," said his wife quite decidedly. " He isn't capable of saving anybody's life, much less a relative of ours, Jean dear. It must have been some one else. Are you sure about the name?"

"Quite sure!" said Jean composedly, though she felt her whole frame trembling.

"Perhaps it was his father," suggested Eleanor, looking at her husband. "Have you ever heard that Jasper Holt had a father living, James? How old a man was he, Jean? "

"He was a young man, Eleanor, tall and handsome, and very brave and strong." Jean's eyes were lifted to meet her sister's smiling doubt, and her chin was raised with an attitude of defiance.

"Listen, Eleanor, he was wonderful. I dropped from the window of the burning sleeper into a river, and something struck me on the head when I rose and tried to swim."

" You poor, dear little girl! " interpolated Eleanor, reaching out yearning arms to clasp her sister again, but Jean held her gently back and went on with her eager tale.

" He caught me and dragged me along, helping me as far as I could go, and when I couldn't swim any longer he brought me a long distance himself to land, and carried me a great ways through the woods. He built a fire, dried his own coat, and put it over me while I slept. He took care of me just as my own father might have done; found food, water, and a house where we slept the first night; and where we got horses. He has been splendid to me all day."

"Well, he can't be our Jasper Holt, dearie -- it's impossible. He isn't a bit like that --"

"Yes," said Jean, looking earnestly, bravely at her sister. "Yes, Eleanor, it is your Jasper Holt. He told me you did not like him, but I'm sure you don't know what he really is -- or you couldn't, you couldn't possibly think ill of him. Oh, Eleanor! --" and suddenly Jean's courage gave way in a flood of tears and she threw herself in her sister's arms.

"You poor, dear little girl! You are all worn out and we are letting you stand here and talk when you ought to be in bed this minute," exclaimed her sister, folding her in loving arms. "Never mind now, dear, you just forget it till to-morrow. It was an awful experience for you to go through all alone with a strange man, and you need a lot of rest before you can tell us about it. Come now, James will send the man out to hunt for your escort and you needn't worry any more. We shall find out there is some mistake, I'm sure the Jasper Holt we know would never turn out of his way to save anybody's life -- he'd much rather kill someone -- unless he had some evil purpose in it. It's possibly someone who has used his name for fun or something. Come now, Jean dear, take off your hat. Why, child, where did you get this ridiculous rig you have on? It's good it wasn't daylight when you arrived. It was thoughtful of your escort to bring you in the dark. Your trunk arrived yesterday. Come up to your room and wash while I have your supper put on the table. I've kept it nice and hot for I knew you would be hungry."

Jean suddenly lifted up her head and wiped the tears away.

"I'd like to tell you just a little first, if you please," she said. "It's no use whatever for you to send out to find Mr. Holt. He will not come back. I am sure. I suppose he meant to slip away. He told me before he got here that you would not want him. He did not want me to mention him at all, but I had to tell you how fine he has been."

Mrs. Harrington and her husband stood looking at one another aghast; while Jean, her hair dishevelled, her sweet face glowing with eagerness, sketched most briefly but forcibly the peril through which she had come and the faithfulness and care of her protector. More than one glance of incredulity passed between husband and wife as the girl went on with her story; and yet, as she came to her final sentences, they perceived that her protector and savior must have been the Jasper Holt they knew and despised.

"I guess it was Holt all right! " said Harrington, with an ominous frown, " and he did well to disappear like the coward that he is. He knew he was not wanted around here! "

"Coward?" exclaimed Jean, "coward! Jasper Holt is no coward! You do not know him! " Her eyes were flashing fire; her whole slender body tense with indignation.

Eleanor looked alarmedly at her husband, but tried to smile pacifically at her sister. "Never mind to-night, dear," she said soothingly, "he's evidently appeared to you as an angel of light. He is handsome, I must admit -- in a kind of a dashing, dreadful way -- and of course any one who saved you and was kind to you would be under a kind of glamour just now. I'm sure we're grateful to him for not letting you drown. It's quite the unexpected; but really, when it comes to bringing you home, you're quite attractive, you know; and I've no doubt he thought it would be pleasant to have a little flirtation with a pretty girl. Besides, I think he rather enjoyed putting James under an obligation to him. I'm sure I hope he will know enough not to presume upon this for further acquaintance. He has been most unpleasant, not to say criminal, in a business way, -- but never mind now, Jean, we'll talk about it more to-morrow. Wait until you hear what everybody says about him and then you will see we are not prejudiced. We don't blame you for being grateful. Be as grateful as you like -- but don't have anything more to do with him! Come now, this is the way to your room. Let me help you unfasten this ridiculous frock. Where did you say you got it? I know you never had this in your wardrobe when you started from home and mother --"

Mrs. Harrington chattered on, giving the girl time to recover her calmness, for she saw that she was terribly excited; and Jean choked back the hot tears that welled to her eyes, and the words of protest against the injustice to Holt, and went about her toilet. In a few minutes more she had made a hasty toilet and, attired in one of her own cool little muslins, she was seated in the dining-room with an admiring audience about her asking questions about home, the journey and the cousins she had visited on the way. The children hung about her eagerly, patting her shyly, and watching her every move with shining eyes. Almost, for a few minutes, the girl forgot the perils through which she had passed, and the lover of whom she must not speak.

When supper was finished the children were sent to bed, and Jean suddenly remembered the leather case she had been charged to convey to her brother-in-law.

"Oh, James," she said, "I've a package for you; 'very important papers' the queer old man who gave it to me said they were. He was going to get off at the next station, he said -- he had been telegraphed for, or something -- and he heard me tell the conductor that you had telegraphed for a berth for me, so he asked if I would give you these papers at once. If he knows about the accident, he's worrying about his precious bundle by this time, I suspect. Wait, I'll get it. It's upstairs in my bag."

Jean hurried up to her room and had a little difficulty in finding the bag which she finally discovered under a trunk tray. The sight of the little wax paper cups and her own little damp wad of a handkerchief she and Holt had both used for a towel that afternoon when they washed their hands at a spring, struck a pang to her heart. The dampness and stuffed condition of the bag made it difficult to get the bundle out, and giving it an impatient jerk she turned the whole thing upside down on the little table that stood by the bedside. The bundle rolled to the floor, opening as it fell, for the edges of the leather case had loosened with the wetting they had received, and let out the papers that it held. Jean stooped wearily and gathered them up with a gingerly touch, remembering the uncouth old man who had given it to her, and was rather surprised that the papers themselves looked clean and were evenly folded. She hurried down to the bright living-room, holding them out to Mr. Harrington, and was startled at the look on his face as he saw what she gave him.

"You needn't be afraid, it's not a ghost," she laughed as she put the damp package in his hand. "It's rather dilapidated, but it's all there. I did the best I could with it, but it was submerged for a long time, and I had no opportunity to dry it."

Harrington said nothing, but his face turned suddenly white and his hand shook as he turned back the limp leather and looked at the folded papers inside. She saw by his expression that he knew what it was.

"Are they so very important? " she asked.

"Pretty important," he said briefly, opening the papers one at a time and half turning away from her as if he did not wish her to see them.

"I'm glad I saved them, then," she said fervently. "I came near throwing them away when I dropped out of that window. The old man was so dirty couldn't bear to have anything he had handled. Well, good-night."

She turned away, feeling that he wished to be alone with the papers, but he looked up and called her back. "Wait, Jean. What kind of a looking man was it who gave them to you?"

She told him in detail.

"Did you let anyone see this case?" he asked sharply.

"No." said Jean, and then remembered. "Well, not exactly. It fell out of my bag once and the paper I had wrapped it in fell off, but there was no one by but Mr. Holt and he didn't notice it in the least."

"Are you sure? " questioned her brother, his face white, his expression growing tense with anxiety.

"How near was he?"

"He was standing close by, not three feet away, and he stooped and picked up the case and handed it back to me without saying a word," said Jean, a hint almost of indignation in her tone that warned her brother he had gone far enough in his inquiries.

"Well, never mind," he said, turning away. "It's all right, of course. They are very important: papers relating to some business my company is carrying on, and Holt has been making a good deal of trouble for us. I would rather he didn't know about them."

Jean was vexed, she scarcely knew why, and stood for an instant hesitating. Should she say more or go immediately upstairs ? It was very strange for James to act that way, as if it were her fault. And it was most unreasonable and unjust for him to feel that way about Jasper Holt. Her soul revolted against it. Harrington looked up, annoyed, as if he would be rid of the girl; and then, realizing the look of wonder on her face, he tried to control his expression and smile.

"Well, good-night, Jean. Don't let this trouble you. I'm deeply grateful that you were so faithful as to guard the papers through all your experiences. Rest well and don't think any more about it."

So dismissed, the girl turned slowly and mounted the stairs, but as she glanced back she saw him fluttering the papers over as if he were counting them two or three times. As she reached the landing she heard him summon a servant and send him in hot haste for someone named "Garrett."

"Tell him he must come at once, it is important, urgent business," was the message sent. Then she closed her door and went about her preparations for the night, but her mind was strangely disturbed.